When Memory Fails

by D. W. Marchwell

  “Sandra was five when she started calling me that,” Hank said, a hiss escaping his lips as Scott thumbed the slit of his cock. “It’s kind of twisted that you’re doing that and we’re talking about—”

  “I still like Bunny better.” Scott stopped the impromptu hand job and gasped softly. “That’s it!” Scott leaned forward and kissed Hank’s furrowed brow. “That’s the perfect nickname for you!”

  “Do I get a say?”

  “Of course,” Scott said, both his hands pushing against Hank’s chest until he was lying on his back, Scott working to free his lover of his trousers and boxers. “Of course you do, Dougie.” Scott heard the laughter build slowly and with purpose while he moved to straddle Hank’s slim hips.

  “Do you honestly think you’re the first person to compare me to a Douglas fir?” Hank’s laughter was loud, deafening almost, as he pulled Scott against his chest and rolled them so that he was looking down at the disappointment that Scott knew was clearly showing on his own face. “And just in case,” Hank began to explain as he undid the button on Scott’s shorts and made short work of removing them, stopping momentarily to growl his approval at his Scrappy having gone commando. “You can scratch these off your list too.” Hank moved between his lover’s thighs, enunciating clearly each forbidden nickname between the nips, kisses, and licks he placed up and down Scott’s flushed body.

  Chapter 6

  LEANING back on his haunches, Hank swiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “How did I get this job, again?” Hank held up the hammer he was holding, not quite certain how he’d landed the task of checking that all the nails were flush with the surface or had been pulled completely and replaced. He looked over at Scott standing on the chair, straining to reach the highest point on the windows. “You’re closer to them than I am,” Hank said with a little too much irony.

  “Because you’re the outdoorsman,” Scott said, reaching for the roll of paper towels that he’d left on the deck table.

  “Do you want to switch?”

  Scott turned again and smiled at Hank before getting down from the chair. “What’s in it for me?” Scott crossed his arms over his chest, cocked his head to the side, and regarded his lover with a very pensive expression.

  “I’ll be your best friend,” Hank cooed, pushing himself up to his full height and trying to look as cherubic as possible.

  Scott let his arms drop and made his way toward Hank. As he reached the taller man, he looked up, love plain on his face, and asked, “What else?”

  Hank reached out and grabbed the smaller man, wrapping him in his strong arms, and brought their lips together. The kiss was gentle at first, but then Scott felt the heat and need of Hank’s tongue teasing his lips. Scott felt himself relax fully, letting his body mold to his lover’s, his hands petting and stroking Hank’s bare back. As the logger’s rough hands made their way further south to cup and squeeze the younger man’s ass, Scott felt Hank writhing and aligning their straining erections, their lips parting so that each man could breathe.

  “Tempting, but no,” Scott said after a moment, then laughed quickly when he saw Hank pull a face. “I’m kidding. Of course we can switch.” He took the hammer from Hank and swatted him playfully on the ass. “Besides, I think I’ll like this view a lot better.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Hank whispered, almost to himself, his smile fading quickly. “I hadn’t thought about that. Never mind.” Hank reached for the hammer again, but Scott stopped him with a hand to his muscled chest. “I could really use a beer right about now. You feel like taking a break?”

  “We’ve only been out here for an hour,” Scott said with a snort of disbelief. “And we have the kitchen and the living room to clean yet, and the deck still has to be hosed off, and the—”

  “I don’t think I like you anymore,” Hank said, sulking. “I’m thinking of going out on strike.”

  Scott laughed and reached out to pinch Hank’s nipples. Running his hands through the fur on Hank’s chest, he looked up and said, seductively, “Well, I guess I should do whatever I can to keep my employees happy.”

  “Okay,” Hank crowed, his smile broad and his hands removing Scott’s T-shirt in one deft move. “I like you again.” He pulled open the sliding door and pulled Scott inside, not letting him get too far away before bringing him back by grabbing the waistband of his shorts. “Are you ready for my list of demands?”

  Still laughing at his lover’s antics, Scott allowed himself to be led to the overstuffed sofa, lying down on his back while Hank first removed his own shorts and then leaned over Scott’s body to remove his. Hank lay down beside the smaller man, his lips locking onto Scott’s right away while his hands explored. He delighted in the sounds of pleasure that he was always able to elicit from his lover. “How much time do I have for break, boss?”

  “Depends on whether you’re willing to stay late to make up the time.”

  “All night, if I have to,” Hank said as he rolled onto his back and pulled Scott on top of his body.

  “Oh, fuck me,” Scott hissed as he felt his entire body lifted up and suspended over Hank’s body, the stronger man moving Scott’s form so that he could take his lover into his mouth. Scott braced his hands on the back of the sofa and looked down the length of his own body, seeing his cock moving in and out of Hank’s mouth, his legs barely touching the sofa cushions on which Hank was lying.

  He closed his eyes as the sensations assaulted him, his toes curling and uncurling as if in anticipation of what was to come. There was nothing Scott could do but hang on. It was one of the things that drove him to the point of total abandon, not being able to touch Hank, his lover’s attentions focused solely on making him come. He tossed his head as the tongue, the mouth, and the lips all worked together to ensure the continued firing of every nerve ending in his body. His breath was coming in ragged gasps, his fingers digging into the soft fabric of the sofa as he neared climax. He heard moaning but wasn’t sure if it was his own voice or Hank’s, heard the sucking and popping each time the suction was broken, only to feel the return of that warmth seconds later.

  He looked down again, catching sight of the veins distended in Hank’s arms and shoulders, the sight far more than he could handle at that point. He cried out his lover’s name as a warning and then felt his balls pull up and his release spill into Hank’s warm mouth.

  Hank moved Scott’s body down his own, the smaller man returning to lie on top of the strong, sweaty physique. Scott reached out and ran his hands gingerly over the extended veins. “No wonder you have muscles like this,” he said and kissed Hank, tasting himself in his lover’s mouth. “Good thing I provide massages as one of the health plan benefits.” Before Hank could respond, Scott scooted down the length of Hank’s body and kneeled between his muscled thighs, pushing them apart with his hands and lifting them toward Hank’s chest.

  “Oh, fuck, yeah, Scrappy,” Hank sighed, his head already falling back on the sofa. Scott suppressed a snicker when he thought of their first few months of living together, when Hank had been almost too painfully shy to ask Scott to alternate between rimming him and sucking him off. Scott had always taken pity on the poor, loveable guy and hadn’t let him stammer and stutter for too long before obliging. And now, all this time later, Scott made certain to do it at least two or three times a week, the experience obviously having lost none of its charms for the burly logger.

  “Oh, yeah, yeah, right there,” Hank grunted as Scott pushed at his lover’s hole with one thumb while using the other to move in between the head and foreskin of Hank’s ample cock. “Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck.”

  Scott smiled to himself as he laved at Hank’s balls and then took first one into his mouth and then the other. Scott loved nothing more than looking up across Hank’s body and seeing him holding his own legs. For Scott, there was nothing more erotic than how Hank had come to be able to ask for what gave him pleasure, nothing more charged than Hank opening himself fully.

  Scott let Han
k’s balls fall gently away from his mouth. “Are you ready, baby?” Scott knew he didn’t have to ask, but he still wanted to check with his lover before pushing a finger or two inside of Hank.

  “Oh, fucking hell, Scrappy,”

  Scott felt the muscles contract around his finger as he eased inside of his lover’s hot hole, pushing in and out without making contact with the gland that would have Hank panting like a dog in record time. Despite having fucked Hank many times in the past, it wasn’t something that Hank had become terribly fond of—trying it, Scott was quite sure, just to please his lover. But having Scott massage his prostate while deep-throating him was definitely a suitable replacement for them both.

  As his finger continued its slow journey toward the bundle of nerves, Scott used one hand to pull the foreskin gently away from the fat head, tonguing the slit a few times before swallowing the entire length. Hank gasped and pulled his thighs closer to his chest as Scott pulled his head up and gently scraped his teeth across the ridge of the engorged head, moaning as he felt the muscles contract repeatedly around his finger. He knew Hank was close.

  He lowered his mouth down to the base of the thick cock and pushed his nose into the soft, curly public hair, inhaling deeply the only scent that could make him hard again so quickly. It was musky, sweet, and Scott closed his eyes as he tapped Hank’s prostate over and over.

  “The slit.” Hank grunted and Scott raised his head to tongue at the slit, feeling the quivering of his lover’s thighs. “Fuck, yeah, baby,” Hank moaned as he began to thrust his hips.

  Scott swallowed the entire length one final time and pressed his finger against Hank’s gland, pulling up just in time to feel the hot jism coat his mouth. He swallowed again and again as Hank’s entire body shook with release, his sphincter squeezing around Scott’s finger.

  Hank released his own thighs and let one leg drop to the floor while the other leaned against the back of the sofa. “Fuck, I love it when you do that.” He reached down, an exhausted smile on his lips, and pulled Scott on top of him again. “I love you, Scott.” He wrapped the smaller man in his arms and kissed him softly. “So much.” Hank looked into his lover’s eyes, watching them close slowly before letting his forehead rest against Scott’s.

  Scott reached up and caressed the flushed face, the sentiment behind the words never losing its impact. “I love you too, Shakey.” He yelped when he felt a hand smack his ass.

  “Nope, not that one, either.”

  “Well, we’re back to Bunny, then.” Scott slid off the muscled body and stood beside the sofa, collecting his shorts and T-shirt. “Break time’s over. Come on, up and at ’em.”

  “I’m on lunch break now,” Hank said with a smirk, rolling on his side and nestling his hands underneath his head. “Wake me up when you’re going to take a shower.”

  “Maybe I should just call you Lazy, or Loafer, or Ferris Bueller.”

  Hank rolled onto his back and then sat up, reaching for his shorts. “This is bordering on harassment. I don’t want to have to report you to the human resources department.”

  “Well, let me give you something to report,” Scott said as he pulled his hand back and walloped Hank’s bare ass.

  “Hey,” Hank said, far too calmly for Scott’s liking. “I kind of liked that. Do it again!”

  Scott dissolved into snorts of laughter and ran outside, his lover, bare-assed, following closely behind, begging to be spanked again and again. He finally stopped when Scott threatened to call him Spanky.

  HANK walked his sister and his brother-in-law out to their car, lingering and waving as they pulled out of the driveway. Scott stood at the front door and waved to the retreating vehicle, the smile hiding his apprehension at the reunion that had pleased Hank so much that he was still standing outside when Scott returned inside to finish the cleanup.

  He hoped that Hank was as thrilled as he seemed to be with the way the evening had gone. Sandra and Jeff had been very nice, neither of them seeming like the kind of people who would go years without speaking to a member of their own family. Scott was unhappy with that thought, told himself that he was the last person who should be criticizing someone’s family. After all, he was not the best judge of what happy, normal families should or should not do.

  They had talked all evening of Hank’s and Sandra’s childhoods, their parents, how Sandra and Jeff had met, as well as their children. They’d even spent a good twenty minutes passing photos of kids and pets and vacations around the living room. Scott had been unable to control his laughter when Sandra—having been prompted by Jeff—pulled a miniature photo album out of her purse. “How many photos does that thing hold?” Hank had asked playfully.

  “That’s the one I bought her as a stocking stuffer this past Christmas,” Jeff had explained, shaking his head. “You should see the one she wanted!”

  “Dinner was wonderful,” Hank said, startling Scott out of his post-dinner analysis, and wrapped his arms around his lover’s waist, pulling Scott’s body against his own. He turned the younger man around and planted a gentle kiss on Scott’s resigned smile. “Thank you.”

  “Are you happy?” The question didn’t need to be asked. Scott could tell by the smile on Hank’s face that he was more than happy.

  Instead of answering, Hank leaned down and kissed Scott again, his hands coming up to brace the back of the younger man’s head. Scott closed his eyes as Hank deepened the kiss, their tongues touching lightly. “Before they left, Sandra wanted me to find out if you’d like to head over to the mainland for dinner next weekend? Meet my niece and nephew?” Hank pulled away slightly, but kept his hands on the trim waist. Scott missed the warmth of his lover almost immediately. “We could make a whole weekend out of it. Go see some sights, maybe spend Saturday night in a nice hotel room with a Jacuzzi before heading home on Sunday?”

  “If you’d like me there, I’d love to come with you.”

  “If….” Hank pulled away again, this time a little further, his brow furrowed. “Of course I’d want you to be with me.”

  “Then I’d love to go,” Scott said, feeling a little too much heat under his lover’s intense gaze.

  “Am I missing something here?” Hank took two steps backward and leaned against the doorjamb, shoving his hands into his chinos.

  Having Sandra and John here was one thing, but Scott didn’t want to intrude on Hank’s reunion until he could be sure that it was all going as well as it seemed. Scott didn’t have a problem with who or what he was, but Hank was a different kettle of fish entirely. “Not at all,” he began. “I just wasn’t sure if you’d want to jump in with both feet, so to speak, right away, that maybe you’d like to go by yourself before… introducing… me.”

  “Why do I get the feeling that you don’t want to come?”

  “I don’t know why you’d think that,” Scott said, and he truly didn’t. “If you’re asking me to come, I’ll come. I’m sorry, Hank, I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I just thought you might want to acclimate everybody, especially the children.”

  “Do you want to come or not?”

  “I want to come.” Scott forced himself to meet Hank’s gaze and watched as those emerald-green eyes jumped back and forth between his, as if he was trying to detect a lie.

  “Good,” Hank said finally, smiling and leaning forward for a quick kiss. “Because both Sandra and Jeff thought you were incredible. She asked me how I’d managed to land someone so gorgeous and famous.”

  Scott smiled, his nerves calming little by little. “And did you tell her that it was your brains and a certain je ne sais quoi?”

  “I told her that you have a thing for lost causes with hairy chests and huge feet,” Hank said, barely able to contain the grin. “No, I told her that I’m still trying to figure that out, still not sure of the answer myself.”

  Scott reached both hands up and touched Hank’s flushed face. “You know the answer to that question, Hank.” Scott moved his fingers backward through the chestnut
locks. “You’re the bravest, kindest, most compassionate man I’ve ever met.” As he brought his left hand to brush a forelock off of Hank’s forehead, Scott leaned up to kiss Hank. “And you were never a lost cause. Not to me, Hank.”

  Hank tilted his head against Scott’s hand and offered a slow smile that made the smaller man want to keep the big logger from changing anything in their lives. When Hank looked at him like that, as if he was the only thing those beautiful green eyes saw in the world, Scott was ready to brick up every door and window, content to stay cocooned with Hank, entombed in their own little universe. Where nothing would or could change and where there would never be any reason for Scott to worry about the answers to the nagging little questions this evening had brought. Then it would really only be he and Hank who mattered, who existed.

  Hank stole one final kiss and then announced, softly, that he would be out on the deck, doing the last bit of cleanup, and then invited Scott to join him in the shower. Of course, Scott accepted.

  Chapter 7

  “READY?” Hank looked over to see as much apprehension on Scott’s face as he was feeling himself. Sandra had surprised both of them with her voice mail message, explaining that Mom and Dad would be joining them for dinner. She hadn’t really explained why in the message. And even though Hank had been a little leery of still going, Scott had not seemed to share his sense of caution.

  When the younger man nodded, Hank stepped down from the driver’s side of his truck and made his way quickly to Scott’s side, both of them walking up to the bright yellow door of Sandra and Jeff’s suburban home. Before they made it to the first landing, Sandra was out the door and rushing to greet them.

  “Not one drink, and he’s been here for almost two hours,” Sandra announced, proudly but quietly, to her brother and took his arm. “I think it will be a fun evening for everyone.” The last words she announced to Scott without really looking at him, and Hank wondered why she hadn’t even greeted him yet.