When Memory Fails

by D. W. Marchwell

  Hank leaned forward and stroked Scott’s cheek, their lips meeting in a brief kiss. “I love you, Scott. I don’t think I realized how much until….”

  “Okay,” Scott announced suddenly. “I’ll give you the good news. Maybe it will cheer you up some more.”

  “You sold your song?”

  “Better. I was having dinner with Kari and Brian last night.”

  Hank could see the smile growing exponentially. This must be some really good news, he thought to himself as he finished the last pancake and started in on the sausage.

  “They’re pretty sure they’re having a boy and want to name him Matthew Isaac.”

  “Our middle names,” Hank said, his chest tightening a little.

  “That’s not all. They want the two of us, along with Sheila, to be godparents.”

  Hank didn’t know what to say. He’d had a family with Scott and Brian and Kari, almost abandoned it in the hopes of having his own family back in his life, and now he would be a godfather to a boy who shared his middle name. “Maybe it will cheer me up?” Hank remembered Scott’s words. “With the possible exception of you telling me that I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you, that’s the greatest news I’ve heard in quite a while.”

  Hank took hold of the tray and lifted it, asking Scott to put it on the floor, ignoring the protests that Hank had not finished everything. When Scott sat straight again, Hank took hold of his shoulders and pulled him onto the bed, on his back. He scrambled out of the sheets and lay beside his Scrappy, hands already working to remove the T-shirt and jeans. He took his time, kissing and nipping at the sensitive neck as if he were tasting it all for the first time. He couldn’t help but be completely mesmerized by the smell and feel and taste of the man beneath him. “I need you, Scott.”

  Hank felt the soft touch of those hands on his chest, pushing him slowly so that he was on his back. He watched, entranced, as Scott stood and removed all of his clothing and then returned to straddle his hips. Hank felt the soft caress as Scott’s hands touched his sides, the scar, and then travelled up to card through the thick chest hair.

  “I’ve missed you… so much.” Scott braced himself on Hank’s chest and leaned forward to do some kissing and nipping of his own. His fingers brushed lightly over Hank’s nipples, and Hank felt his erection growing against the soft, hairless belly pressing against him.

  “I’m sorry—”

  “What do you need, Hank? Anything. I’ll do anything for you.”

  At those words, Hank wrapped his arms around his Scrappy and rolled over, his weight bearing down on the smaller man. He bent his arms and rested his elbows on either side of the beautiful face. He looked into those loving brown eyes for what seemed like hours, his hands playing in the soft blond curls. Hank didn’t know where the thought had come from, but it seemed right. He never wanted this incredible, funny, kind, compassionate man to doubt Hank’s commitment to him. Never again. Hank felt the smile transform his own face, and he looked deep into Scott’s eyes. “Marry me?”

  Chapter 10

  SCOTT had always loved this time of year, just before Thanksgiving, when the leaves were turning and the air was cool but still smelled like sunshine, everything seeming much more vibrant and crisp. He sat at the dining room table, Hank still in bed. It was still early, but Scott hadn’t been able to get back to sleep when he woke up a couple of hours before. He’d spent almost an hour in bed, snuggled up to Hank’s broad back with his eyes closed, taking in the smell and feel of the warm skin. If he had stayed in bed, sometime before Hank woke, he would have found himself wrapped in those well-muscled arms, as if the big logger was still uncertain that he wouldn’t find himself alone in the morning. Secretly, Scott relished the feeling of being held there, as if Hank were reaffirming, even in sleep, that he didn’t wish to live without his Scrappy.

  It had been a few very stressful weeks for Scott, he wouldn’t deny that, but not only had they made it through, they had come out of it with their future clearly in sight. They would be getting married after Thanksgiving. Scott had been surprised to find himself fretting and obsessing over the details, going over the lists of whom to invite, where to have the service and reception, what to wear. He couldn’t seem to get the details out of his head, and whenever his eyes opened—even if it was only an hour or two after he’d first closed them—his brain would start reviewing, planning, arranging, and managing. And Hank? Scott would just lie beside him, always pulled in by the warmth of that sun-kissed skin, pressed up against him, and look at how peacefully he slept now.

  Of course, it hadn’t always been that way. After that night when Scott had arrived home and thought that Hank had been loading his truck with boxes of personal possessions to be moved to a home he would make without Scott, only to learn that Hank would finally be getting around to dropping off the boxes of clothes and unused items to the charity depot, there had been many sleepless nights for Hank. And Scott had always awoken to find Hank off in some corner of the townhouse his beautiful eyes staring off into space. Sometimes Hank had wanted to talk about it, and the other times, they had both been content to sit and hold each other, Scott not wanting to rush Hank.

  But now Scott was the one who would wake and find himself gazing at Hank as the big man slept soundly again. And Scott was not going to begrudge Hank anything, let alone a good night’s sleep. Hank had seemed so lost and wounded a few weeks ago that Scott did everything he could to ensure that Hank got whatever it was he needed. Scott took special care to prepare his favorite meals, record television shows, or buy movies that he thought Hank would like. Of course, he’d also done these things for purely selfish reasons. Hank was always so grateful and touched that Scott would reap the benefits later on.

  Of course, Scott sometimes wished he could get another response from Hank when it came to details about the wedding. Scott would ask a question or be looking for feedback only to be met with the pat answer “As long as you show up and say ‘I do’, the rest is just window dressing.” It was the answer that usually earned Hank a kiss or two, which would invariably lead to the two of them naked and pleasing each other in every possible way.

  When Scott had realized the depth of Hank’s despair, he’d shown more self-control than he’d thought possible, because he’d not wanted to push Hank too quickly. But, as always, Hank had shown remarkably quick recovery skills. Scott had fallen in love with Hank all over again when he witnessed, day after day, how Hank was working to put the entire ordeal his father had put him through out of his mind. He never complained, which was something Scott wished he would do sometimes, preferring instead to reassure his Scrappy that he would be “fine,” that he had everything he would ever need at home. Those were the moments when Scott rediscovered not only how much he loved Hank, but how much he liked the man. It was at those moments when Scott wanted to point out to Hank that he was a much better man than the one whose acceptance he’d wanted so badly. But Scott never did. Perhaps one day he would, but not when the scars were healing.

  Scott sipped his tea, alone at the dining room table, and thought of that night almost two weeks ago when he’d been taking a shower alone. But as he began to wash his hair, he felt another pair of hands take over. Hank stood behind him, his growing erection pressing into the small of Scott’s back, and massaged and pampered.

  As he turned the smaller man to face him, Hank bent Scott backward slightly to let the stream of water rinse away the shampoo, Hank had taken advantage and leaned down to kiss and nibble at Scott’s neck and shoulders. This, of course, had led to more kissing, more nibbling, and then to fondling and the return of Hank’s insatiable need for his Scrappy. And Scott had been too stunned to do anything but brace himself as the big logger devoured him, bending him over the shower bench and fucking him senseless, leaving Scott elated and wanting more.

  When they had dried themselves off, they’d gone immediately to bed. Their words and actions were tender for about the first hour, and then Scott could al
most feel the need in Hank restored. Scott remembered how he’d been left breathless, literally, as Hank’s lips barely left his. Each of Scott’s legs had been placed gently in the crook of an elbow, and then Hank had pushed in, had made sure to go tantalizingly slowly, leaving every nerve of Scott’s body engaged and firing.

  Scott couldn’t be sure if all who survived such trials in a relationship or marriage experienced the incredible transformation that made the sex so much better, but he was convinced that theirs had become unlike anything he could remember. Perhaps it was the stronger emotional connection, or perhaps it was that Hank had made the decision to commit himself to Scott for the rest of his life. Scott didn’t know and didn’t really care. Whatever the actual reason, Scott wasn’t about to question it too much or wonder if Hank would ever regret his decision. He wants to marry me. That one thought had kept Scott preoccupied ever since Hank had popped the question. And it was something he would never allow himself to question, not as he had with Hank’s love and commitment only a few weeks ago.

  A smile spread across his face when he heard a moan from the upstairs bedroom. He’d come to recognize the moan as his cue to head back upstairs and prepare for spooning and lots of kissing. Hank was awake, had discovered his Scrappy was absent, and would begin to call for Scott within a few minutes. Scott raised himself out of the dining room chair and deposited his mug in the sink.

  When he came out of the kitchen, Hank was standing near the bottom of the stairs, wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt that covered up his incredible physique. Scott resisted the urge to go over and rip the clothes off Hank, instead walking slowly to where Hank stood, the taller man scratching his belly and yawning. Then the yawn gave way to a bewitching smile, and Scott stopped just in front of his man, his hands reaching out to work their way under the T-shirt.

  “You okay?”

  Scott smiled up at him, looking at the mess of hair, and couldn’t help but think, Even after everything he’s been through, he still thinks of me first. “Never better, Bunny,” he teased and felt the swat on his ass.

  “I’m just going to have to give up, right? I mean, you seem to have your heart set on Bunny, don’t you?”

  “Well, that may change when I get to call you husband.” The slow grin that appeared across Hank’s beautiful face sent the butterflies in Scott’s stomach fluttering. “Or do you prefer sir?”

  “I prefer you,” Hank said, leaning in for a kiss.

  “Mmm.” Scott hummed as he tasted peppermint and Hank. “You brushed your teeth?”

  “Of course. Can’t very well come down here to kiss you silly and not.”

  “I was just coming up when I heard you wake up.” Scott slipped his hands underneath the waistband of the sweatpants and caressed the warm, solid flesh.

  “Uh-huh,” Hank sighed with a grin. “What did you have in mind?”

  Scott stood on his tiptoes and whispered into his lover’s ear, earning himself a squeeze or two on his backside.

  Hank pulled away long enough to take Scott’s hand and lead him back upstairs. “I don’t have to be at work for another two hours. Any chance we could do that twice?”

  SCOTT hovered, his body suspended over the sweat-slicked skin of his lover, his hands braced on either side of Hank’s chest, both of them breathing heavily. Scott felt Hank slip out of him, missing the sensation of being completely filled almost immediately. Hank’s hands were skimming over his shoulders, his chest, his belly, their eyes locked together. Neither of them spoke as Hank wrapped his arms around Scott’s shoulders and pulled him down so he rested on the muscled torso. Scott closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the beating of Hank’s heart against his own, Hank’s breath blowing in quick puffs against Scott’s neck. He nuzzled Hank’s ear, his tongue and lips nibbling the soft earlobe as Hank rolled them slowly onto their sides.

  Hank pushed gently against Scott’s shoulder so that the smaller man was lying on his back, Hank’s body half on, half off Scott’s. His big hand caressed and petted Scott’s chest and belly, and Scott felt himself recovering, as he always did whenever Hank touched him with such tenderness. He opened his eyes as he felt Hank’s cock hardening, pressing against his thigh. But almost as quickly, Scott felt the moment pass, the growing erection deflating.

  “I’ll be calling my mother today,” Hank announced suddenly.

  Scott looked up at the strange mix of emotions that crossed Hank’s face and waited.

  “Once we’ve set an exact date, I’d like her to come… like for my whole family to come, but I know my dad won’t. And I’m not so sure Sandra and Kathy will come, either.”

  “They may surprise you,” Scott said, turning onto his side, his own hands petting and caressing reassuringly.

  “I’m too old for surprises. And I don’t want anything to ruin our day.” Hank leaned into Scott’s touches and kissed him softly on the forehead. Rolling onto his back, Hank put one arm underneath his lover’s side and pulled him closer.

  Scott snuggled into Hank’s side, resting his head on the hardness of his shoulder muscles. “I wish I could fix this for you, Hank.”

  “I know you do, baby. And that’s what made me see that I would lose you if I didn’t smarten up.”

  “You’d never lose me, Hank.”

  “Would have if I’d let my own shame and guilt keep pushing you away.”

  “You’re a good man, Henry Isaac.” Scott propped himself on one elbow and looked down at his lover, a hand coming out to brush the hair away from those beautiful green eyes. “I’m sorry your father doesn’t see that.” Scott couldn’t resist kissing Hank’s full lips. “I like to think he’ll eventually realize how proud he should be of you.”

  “Me too, baby,” Hank said as he stroked Scott’s back, his hand coming to rest on his lover’s neck. He offered a squeeze and smiled. As quickly as the mood had come over Hank, it disappeared, and Scott found himself on his back, Hank’s erection pressing against his thigh once again. “Wanna try something.”

  Intrigued, Scott waited, only to feel himself flipped onto his stomach, Hank’s strong arms lifting his ass in the air, the heat of the big man’s tongue licking and teasing his hole. Scott sighed into the pillow, feeling himself harden almost instantly. There was nothing and no one else that could get this kind of reaction from Scott. He’d spent so many lonely nights convinced that there was no one out there who could do this to him, for him. Scott had convinced himself that he would eventually have to settle for a man he admired, respected, but didn’t necessarily love—a man who would make him feel loved and cherished, but who remained unable to ignite this kind of passion and fire inside of him.

  As if sensing Scott was about to explode from just the tongue alone, Hank turned Scott onto his back. Hank reached for the tube of lube and then, lifting Scott’s legs slightly, slicked first Scott’s hole and then his dick. “So I can watch you pump yourself while I’m fucking you,” Hank said with a lascivious grin. Scott watched as Hank stood, bending his legs and picking up Scott’s legs and resting each in the crook of an elbow. “Saw this a couple of days ago,” Hank started to explain as Scott felt himself almost lifted off the mattress. “Article said that it should drive you crazy, since I have an upward-curving dick.”

  “Oh, fuck,” Scott said as he realized that Hank had affixed his body at an angle that would drive that enormous, uncut cock right into his prostate. Scott felt the pressure of Hank pushing inside, his eyes closing as he concentrated on relaxing his muscles. “Fucking hell, it feels ten times as big from that angle.” Scott felt Hank stop and slowly begin to ease out. “God, Hank, that feels amazing. Don’t stop!”

  “Thought I was hurting you,” Hank explained and then began to push back in. “Call this the pile driver.”

  “Remember that from wrestling,” Scott moaned as he was completely filled by the heat and hardness of Hank. “Never saw it done this way before, though.” Hank pegged his prostate, and Scott felt like he would come right off the bed. “Don’t stop. Right
there, baby.”

  “Yeah?” Hank said with a huge grin. “How’s this?”

  Scott felt Hank pull out slightly and then push in slowly, hitting his prostate again. Pushing all the way in again, Hank pressed his balls against Scott’s ass for a moment, and then Hank’s huge cock was pulling out, only to return—this time, just far enough for him to push in, hit Scott’s bundle of nerves, pull out, and repeat the process five or six times before pushing all the way in again.

  “Touch yourself, Scrappy. Wanna see you come from up here. Splash yourself with it so I can lick it off you.”

  “Oh, Jesus.” Scott groaned as he began to fist himself, still looking up at the play of muscles across Hank’s big arms and massive chest. Hank was pushed all the way in now, Scott taking a few moments to recover from the last onslaught against his prostate. “Fuck me, Hank. Fuck me harder.”

  “You got it, baby,” Hank said, breathless. Hank brought one arm across both of Scott’s thighs while he continued to pump in and out before plunging all the way in again and used his other hand to wrap around Scott’s swollen prick. “Come for me, Scrappy. Want to see you come all over yourself.”

  Scott was lost in another world, a world where Hank seemed twice as big and twice as strong as he was. With the blood rushing to his head, Scott was amazed he was maintaining an erection, let alone that it felt as if he’d never been harder. He tried keeping his eyes focused on Hank’s wanton expression, but the sensations coursing through his sensitive body were simply too much for him. It took all of his concentration to remember to breathe.

  “So fucking gorgeous like that, Scott. Can’t believe you’re all mine.”

  “Hank!” Scott felt the strong, calloused hand on his dick, the words in his ears, could smell Hank in his nostrils. Unable to hold back any longer, Scott felt his entire body clench, and Hank yelled out Scott’s name as he felt the tight muscles constrict his cock.