by Durango, M.
Matt watched as she went down on the actor, fascinated by the sight of his waxed groin area, wondered how smooth it was. Matt wanted to see him shoot, but he knew it was too soon.
The male actor was moaning and encouraging the woman as she sucked him off. The sounds — moaning, sighing, heavy breathing — always went straight to Matt’s cock.
The scene changed suddenly to show the woman on her back with the actor standing over her, thrusting his hard cock into her.
Matt felt himself getting closer. His hips rocked, pushing his shaft through his fist. He tightened his grip slightly and increased his pace, moaning as his orgasm tore through him.
As his breathing returned to normal and he refocused on his surroundings, the scene on the television had changed again. Matt watched a few more minutes as the actor changed positions several times. Once his own need had passed, however, Matt started to feel like too much of a voyeur and turned the movie off.
His sleep was dreamless that night.
Chapter Five
The dreamlessness didn’t last. The nightmares returned the next night, the sex dreams involving Christian a few nights later. Sometimes, Matt was lucky enough to get almost an entire night’s sleep, but often he woke much earlier.
After almost two weeks, the lack of sleep was beginning to take its toll. He was able to stay focused enough that his work didn’t suffer, but he found himself snapping at Alison about things out of her control. It frustrated him that he took his moodiness out on his friend but he convinced himself that a good night’s sleep would go a long way toward fixing things. He was looking forward to relaxing during next week’s Thanksgiving break.
Matt’s cell phone rang as he was leaving work Friday; he wasn’t surprised to see Sam’s number and flipped the phone open.
“What?”
“Jesus, you’re cranky.” Sam sounded only mildly annoyed. “What the fuck’s your problem?”
“Nothing. Sorry.” Matt scrubbed a hand across his eyes and tried to shake off his bad mood. “What’s up?”
“What are you doing tonight?”
Fuck, Matt was too tired to deal with one of Sam’s parties. “I’m going home and watching a movie.”
“Come down to Riley’s.” Riley’s was their local pub, a place that had been around for ages and tended to attract a mix of young professionals and some of the older college crowd.
It was a better suggestion than a party, but Matt begged off anyway. “Not tonight, man. I’m too tired.” Matt waited for Sam’s usual good-natured protest.
Sam was silent for a moment. “Yeah, okay. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Matt closed the phone when Sam ended the call, surprised to be let off so easily. Maybe his bad attitude was finally taking its toll on their friendship. It was just one more thing Matt didn’t want to deal with right now.
Later that evening, Matt was loading his dishwasher when the door buzzer sounded. He knew it was Sam. Resigned to having to argue further, Matt clicked on the intercom.
“Yeah?”
“Hey, it’s me. Can I come up?” Sam’s voice echoed through the tinny speaker.
“Sure.” Matt buzzed him in and made sure the apartment door was unlocked.
Sam walked in a minute later. “Hey, man. I would have used my key, but I wanted to make sure it was cool to come up.”
Matt was going to argue, tell Sam he was too tired to be social, but shrugged instead. “Sure.”
Sam frowned but didn’t say anything. He pulled a six pack out of the bag he was carrying, took two bottles out, and put the rest in the fridge. He handed Matt an open bottle and walked into the living room.
“What are we watching?” Sam dropped down onto the couch and propped his feet up.
“I hadn’t decided yet.” Matt left his bottle on the coffee table and crouched down to rifle through his DVD collection. “Any preferences?”
Sam shrugged. “Dunno. Comedy? Action? Romantic Comedy?”
Matt flipped him off at the suggestion of romantic comedy. “You know the rule — no chick flicks. Comedy.”
They argued good naturedly for a bit before deciding to watch Caddyshack for the millionth time. They could both recite it verbatim, but that was part of the fun.
Once the movie was over and the six pack almost finished, Sam brought up the very subject Matt had been hoping to avoid. “So, tell me what’s going on.” The way Sam said it, Matt knew it wasn’t a casual question, but decided to dodge the question.
“I’ve just been busy at work. That project I’ve been working on with Alison is taking up a lot of time.” It wasn’t a lie by any means, just not the whole truth. He knew Sam meant well, but Matt wasn’t ready to talk; he was too conflicted over his reaction to Christian and all of the questions it was forcing Matt to ask. He’d never thought of himself as anything other than heterosexual; he’d never allowed himself the opportunity to consider an alternative.
“God damn it Matt, I’ve known you since you were, what? Fifteen years old? You’re having nightmares again, aren’t you?”
Matt’s first instinct was to deny it, but this was Sam, the one person who’d seen him through pretty much everything. But he sure as hell wasn’t going to mention the other dreams. “Yeah. I am. They started a couple of weeks ago. It’s not a big deal.”
Sam’s expression turned from angry to concerned. “Are you talking to anyone?”
Matt raised his eyebrow. “You mean other than you?”
Sam threw his hands up, obviously frustrated with Matt’s response. “Yes, other than me. You know, a professional?”
Of course, Matt knew what Sam meant and he also knew Sam was overreacting. He didn’t blame Sam; with so much misinformation and sensationalist Hollywood depictions of veterans, Matt was accustomed to having to clear up misconceptions even among those closest to him. “No. You know I went through all the assessments already. It’s a reaction to stress; it doesn’t mean I’m going to go all Rambo.”
“Yeah, I know. I also know that you had a shitty year when you first got back and I don’t want you to go through that again. What do you think caused them to come back?”
Matt shrugged. Admitting he was confused by his attraction to another man wasn’t an option.
Sam ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I, uh, I did some research.” He looked sheepish. “I’m worried about you.”
“Oh, hell, Sam. Tell me you’re not reading crazy blogs; you know half of those people don’t know what they’re talking about and the rest have an agenda. I’m not going to do anything dangerous or stupid. I didn’t last time, either, and that was worse. And I’ve been through the coaching on how to manage stress.”
“I know, Matty.” Sam took a drink of his beer. “Shit, it just worries me and I can’t do anything about it. And I know you hate talking about it, but you know trying to bury it just makes it worse.”
Matt grudgingly acknowledged that Sam had a point. “I’m not trying to bury it, and I’m not trying to be an ass, Sam. I’m dealing with it.”
Sam’s smile was genuine, if a bit resigned. “Okay. Look, you know you can call me if you need anything, right?”
“Yeah, Sammy, I know.” Matt couldn’t stay annoyed; he knew Sam was just worried about him.
“Okay. I’ll lay off. What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”
“Sleeping,” Matt answered. “And not working.”
“Mom’s having a thing. You can always come over for dinner.”
Matt was grateful for the offer, but he didn’t want to spend the day answering Sam’s family’s well-meaning questions. “No, man, I need the vacation. Next time, okay?”
“She’s going to nag,” Sam warned. “She hates the idea of you being alone on the holidays.”
“And I promise to be nice to her when she calls. Just bring me leftovers on Friday. And don’t eat all the stuffing.” Matt loved stuffing.
Sam laughed. “I can make no promises, dude.”
Chapter Six
&nbs
p; Sam called on Tuesday to try one final time to convince Matt to join him at his parents’ house on Thanksgiving. Matt begged off again but reminded Sam to bring leftovers.
Matt hadn’t been lying; he was fucking exhausted and planned to use the long weekend to catch up on his sleep. He was determined to just relax, watch movies, and nap. He was getting through work by drinking too much coffee and energy drinks.
Luck must have been with him; there were no last-minute fires, no database crashes, no life-or-death reports and he was able to leave work at a decent hour on Wednesday.
He was surprised to run into Alison on the way to the parking lot. “I thought you were leaving early?”
Alison made a face. “Don’t remind me. I still have three freaking pies to make for tomorrow but got stuck running reports that no one will ever look at but can’t wait for.”
Matt laughed. “Oh, I know all about that, trust me.”
Alison looked at him in mock sympathy. “Poor, abused IT guy.”
“Hey!” Matt feigned outrage. “Do you know how many hours I worked last week?”
She shook her head, reaching back to pull out the pins keeping her hair back. “I don’t want to know, because if it was fewer than I did, I’ll be pissed.”
“Gee, thanks, Al. Go bake your damn pies.”
She gave him a sideways look. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
“Get out of here!” They both laughed as they parted ways.
Matt stretched before getting into his truck and settling behind the wheel. Four days to do absolutely nothing! Matt was truly looking forward to this weekend.
***
He set his DVR to record the parade so he didn’t have to worry about getting up on time; being able to skip the boring parts was also a plus.
He slept late, dreamless — finally. Maybe all he needed to do was relax and take some time off.
He decided to make a quick trip to the store to pick up some deli turkey and cranberry sauce. Maybe he wasn’t having a full Thanksgiving dinner, but he could have a reasonable facsimile.
He threw on some clothes and grabbed his jacket; it wasn’t quite raining, but who knew what it would do by the time he got back.
Every time he thought about the weather, he thought about Christian, the dreams, and the last time they saw each other. Still not sure how to deal with his feelings, Matt had decided the best approach was to simply ignore them.
Fate, apparently, had ideas of its own.
Turning into the canned vegetable aisle, he stopped short. There was Christian, looking at canned cranberry sauce, as if Matt’s thoughts had conjured the other man.
Christian grabbed a can and stood up, eyes widening and face paling ever so slightly when he saw Matt.
They stood there staring at each other for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only a matter of seconds.
“Hi,” Matt finally managed.
“Hi.” Christian smiled, looking nervous but hopeful at the same time.
Matt searched for something to say to break the tension. “So, uh, did you get stuck with the last-minute store run?”
“Huh?”
Matt motioned to the can Christian was holding.
“Oh, this.” Christian held it up and looked at it intently. “No. I just, well, I thought it would go well with my frozen dinner.”
Matt frowned. “Aren’t you having Thanksgiving with your parents?” Matt just assumed he was the only one spending the holiday without family, even though logically he knew that wasn’t true. It didn’t help to make him feel any less alone.
Christian looked awkward, standing there staring at a can of cranberry sauce, shuffling his feet and biting his lower lip.
“No. I’m, well, I couldn’t afford to go home and miss work, so I’m here by myself.” He looked up suddenly, eyes wide. “God, tell me that didn’t just sound as pathetic as I think it did. It’s no big deal, really. And I’m sure you have a thing to get to, so I won’t hold you up.”
Christian turned to leave, but Matt surprised himself by stopping him. Christian caused Matt to surprise himself a lot lately, Matt noted absently.
“I don’t have plans,” Matt stated.
“What? Oh, I’m… are you having a frozen turkey dinner, too?” That hopeful look Matt had become used to was back, along with some curiosity.
“No. Turkey sandwich, actually.” He held up his basket. “I was just picking up some cranberry sauce to go with it. Not that weird stuff shaped like the can, though.”
Christian frowned. “I like the stuff shaped like the can.”
Matt smiled. “The stuff made with real cranberries is better.”
Christian diligently read the label on the can of cranberry sauce he was holding. “This has real cranberries. They’ve just been turned into a jelly.” He narrowed his eyes and looked at Matt closely. “Do you have something against jelly?”
Matt laughed this time. “I have nothing against jelly. But cranberry sauce at Thanksgiving calls for better than just jelly.”
Christian held the can closer. “This is what my mom always buys. If you cut both ends off, it slides out and retains the shape of the can.”
“And you’re okay with that?” Matt had always been mildly fascinated by the cranberry sauce shaped like a can phenomenon, but it also freaked him out.
Christian rolled his eyes. “Hello, it’s jelly.”
Matt laughed again. “Okay, I’ll tell you what, I’ll get a can of good cranberry sauce and we can compare.”
Christian cocked his head to the side. “Are you inviting me over for Thanksgiving frozen dinner?”
“No, I’m inviting you over for Thanksgiving sandwiches.” Matt hid his embarrassment by bending down and picking up a can of cranberry sauce made with whole cranberries.
Standing up, he said, “I bet we can even find some instant stuffing to go with the sandwiches.”
Christian seemed to brighten. “Can we get instant mashed potatoes, too? It’ll almost be like a real Thanksgiving if we do that!”
Matt smiled, feeling suddenly light.
Or maybe just lightheaded.
What the hell did he just do?
By the time they left the store, they had deli turkey, instant stuffing, instant mashed potatoes, a can of green beans, two kinds of cranberry sauce, a pumpkin pie, two kinds of whipped topping, beer, and snacks. Matt wasn’t sure when this had turned into a real holiday, but he was feeling good enough about it to just be happy that he wouldn’t be alone.
Christian’s bike was once again loaded into the back of Matt’s truck for the short drive to Matt’s condo.
As they pulled into the parking garage, Christian asked, “Is there someplace I should leave my bike?”
Matt glanced behind him. “It should be fine where it is, or you can bring it up if you don’t want to leave it lying on its side.”
Christian thought for a minute, chewing on his lower lip again. “Is it okay if I bring it up? That way I’ll have it when I need it and don’t need to deal with the lock.”
Matt could see the logic in that. Having it handy gave Christian an easy escape if he wanted to leave. “Sure. It won’t be in the way.”
They managed to carry everything up in one trip, and Matt hung up their coats.
“Nice place,” Christian said as he looked around the spacious living area.
It had been a while since Matt had someone new visit. He took a look around, wondering how it appeared to Christian. He’d bought the place using the money he’d inherited from his parents’ estate when he decided not to reenlist in the Army. The beige wall-to-wall carpeting was already installed and he hadn’t gotten around to painting the white walls, although he had a stack of paint samples somewhere.
Most of the furniture was new. He had sprung for the slightly more expensive microfiber sectional and matching chair in a deep blue; the sectional and coffee table took up most of the space in front of the entertainment center. The king-sized bed in his bedr
oom was definitely an extravagance, but after spending so much time in Army bunks, he wanted the extra space. He had kept a few things from his parents’ house, including the bookcase and the desk he kept in the second bedroom and the few paintings on the living room walls.
“Thanks.” Matt picked up one of the grocery bags — he’d only gone out for cranberry sauce and turkey! — and gave Christian a quick tour. “It’s a little bigger than I need, but it gives me plenty of room for the big screen TV and surround sound.” Matt pointed to the left. “The master bedroom and bath are through that door,” he pointed to the right, “and that hall on the right has a spare bedroom and bath. The kitchen’s through here.” The kitchen was directly to the right of the living room, sharing a wall where Matt indicated the second bedroom.
“Thanks for inviting me over.” Christian followed Matt into the kitchen. “I really wasn’t looking forward to spending Thanksgiving by myself.”
“It’s no problem.” Matt put the last of the non-perishable items on the counter. “I recorded the parade from this morning if you want to watch before we make dinner.”
Christian positively beamed; Matt thought he might have been bouncing. “You did! I don’t have TV. That’s so cool. Can we watch?”
Matt found Christian’s enthusiasm infectious. “Sure. Grab the chips.” Matt pulled a couple of beers from the fridge and followed Christian to the couch.
“I haven’t seen the parade in forever,” Christian said, taking a beer from Matt. “I love the floats.”
Matt couldn’t help but smile. Christian had to be the most enthusiastic person he had ever met. “I like the balloons,” he admitted.
Dinner was quick and easy; instant potatoes and stuffing hardly took much time at all. Matt got that all set up while Christian laid out the sandwich fixings and cranberry sauce. They both laughed at the obscene sound the cranberry jelly made as Christian slid it out of the can.
Before Matt even realized it, they were sitting on the couch, stuffed, watching football and waiting to digest enough to eat dessert.
