Dex in Blue

by Amy Lane

  Dex was sweaty from their afternoon, but Kane didn’t care. He sat up on his knees and buried his face between Dex’s cheeks, probing with his tongue and fondling Dex’s cock and balls roughly from the front.

  Dex buried his face in the cheap sateen comforter and groaned, but not loud enough for Kane. Kane stood up and ripped back the covers, then started shoving off his underwear and shirt.

  “Lay down there,” he said gruffly. “On your side.”

  “On my—”

  “Stretch yourself out. Make yourself ready.” Kane fished out the little lube tube from the pocket of the jeans at his feet and threw it at Dex.

  Dex caught it automatically and then… just complied.

  Kane had known he would. Knew now what that little part of Dex was, the part that had been alone for too long, that liked to be told what to do because it made him safe. Kane liked telling him what to do, because that way Kane could make him safe, make Dex want him, make him be there the next morning with kindness in his eyes. The fact that Dex would have been there anyway just made it even better to tell him what to do.

  Dex cracked the little tube open and drizzled some lube on his fingers, then reached back and thrust them between his cheeks.

  “Show me,” Kane muttered roughly, because he really wanted to see. Oh God, yeah. There were Dex’s two fingers buried in his own flesh, spreading, stretching, separating….

  Kane threw himself on the bed behind Dex and gave his wrist a jerk so his fingers would come out. They did, and Dex made a half-pleasured, half-pained sound, and then Kane was bare against his entrance and pushing in.

  It was rough—but then it was supposed to be. Dex let out that first anguished gasp of pleasure/pain as Kane breached him, and Kane took that for a sign. He shoved his bicep under Dex’s head and wrapped his arm around so he could clap his hand over Dex’s mouth. He didn’t want the neighbors to call the police, and this was going to get loud.

  “C’mon, baby, scream,” he growled as he drove his cock in to the hilt.

  Dex’s scream rattled, smothered against Kane’s palm, and Kane pulled his hips back and thrust again. Dex screamed again, and again, and as Kane pummeled him from behind and restrained him in front, Dex’s screams became less about the sex and more about the pain, and that’s what Kane wanted.

  They hadn’t had sex in too long, and they had been in touching distance all that time. God, Kane was close. He wrapped his free arm around Dex’s hips, and Dex was enough of a pro to throw his leg backward so Kane could grab his cock. Kane squeezed, and Dex screamed again against his other hand.

  “Good,” Kane panted, still pistoning his hips. “Don’t keep that shit inside. Scream, Dex. C’mon… scream, dammit!”

  Dex’s next scream was long and low, as much a groan as a scream, but it exorcised all of it—the pain, the hiding, the longing, the bitterness, all of it purged against the sweating insides of Kane’s palm.

  Kane groaned then, because he was close, and he needed Dex to come first so Kane would know he’d be all right. “C’mon… c’mon, David, you’re close… let go… let go… I’ve gotcha….”

  Kane was pounding hard, and between Dex’s ass clenching down on his shaft and Dex’s increasingly frantic screams, he had a good barometer of when Dex was going to come completely apart. It was gonna be… gonna be… oh God that was tight, and hard, and suddenly Dex bit down on the flesh of Kane’s palm and spasmed almost hard enough to squeeze Kane out of his body (like Kane… thrust… was gonna… shove… let… pound… that happen!) and spilled hot and urgent all over Kane’s hand.

  The scream that tore out of Dex then felt like it ripped through both their guts, and Kane arched his neck and bit down on Dex’s shoulder hard as he thrust in one last time and came.

  Kane’s grip on his body relaxed, and the soft sounds of Dex sobbing filled the room.

  “Shh…,” Kane whispered in his ear. “Shh… it’s okay, Dexter. It’s okay. We’re gonna be okay.”

  Dex took one of those deep child’s breaths and let it out on more tears. Kane brought up his hand—still covered in come but he didn’t really give a crap—and smoothed back Dex’s hair, ran his hands over Dex’s shoulders, clasped his arms around Dex’s chest, and pulled tight, crushingly tight, while Dex fell apart only because Kane was there to hold the pieces together.

  Kane stayed awake until the sobbing stopped and Dex had fallen asleep, and then he got up and washed off a little, but he wasn’t thorough. He found the thermostat and cranked that motherfucker up to seventy degrees because he was tired of being cold. He found his sleep pants and then a takeout menu, because he realized it wasn’t even nine-o’clock and they hadn’t eaten yet. Chinese food arrived and Kane ate half of it (okay, well, maybe a little more than half, but then Kane tended to eat for bulk anyway) and still Dex stayed on his side, his face turned into his arm, without moving. Kane packed up the food and figured they’d have it for breakfast, and climbed back into bed with the remote. After an hour of television, he was finally ready for sleep, and he turned off the light, then slid one arm under Dex’s head and the other around Dex’s middle, like it should be, and pulled Dex back until his bare ass was even with Kane’s groin.

  “Can we take the sleep pants off?” Dex said, his voice muffled by his arm.

  Kane used one hand to drag off the side of his sleep pants and then kicked them the rest of the way off. “I thought you were asleep,” he said, more than a little surprised, and Dex turned and met him bare chest to bare chest in the soda lamp darkness of the hotel room.

  “I was for a while,” he said against Kane’s lips. “I was asleep for almost ten years. And then this big goober with all these fucking weird animals moved into my house, and I was suddenly awake.” Dex wrapped a leg around Kane’s hips and pulled him close, and moved his hand up to cup Kane’s face. He stroked Kane’s cheek, tangled his fingers in Kane’s thick hair, which was long enough to curl after the day they’d had, and even stroked Kane’s lips with his thumb.

  “How’s awake treating ya?” Kane asked, and he realized a part of him was apprehensive.

  “Better than I deserve,” Dex said, and he pushed forward into a kiss.

  Kane opened his mouth and allowed Dex in, and let Dex have control this time. Every touch in that darkened room was soft, every brush of lips against skin was tender. When Dex captured Kane’s nipple in his mouth and suckled, there was no bite of pain, just the easy stroke of his tongue. The same when Dex moved down to Kane’s cock, and his balls, and his… oh geez, Dex knew how to lick down there. He was a little more assertive around Kane’s taint, but his tongue, right at Kane’s entrance… gentle… gentle… gentle… his fingers sliding around in the moisture before they penetrated… gentle… gentle… gentle… until Kane’s back was arching and he was grabbing his thighs and spreading himself out and begging, because sometimes too much gentleness hurt.

  “Please,” he whispered. “Please. Please.”

  Dex’s thrust inside him was gentle too. Every bit of pressure, every thrust, added another layer of want to Kane’s skin, and even Dex’s breath against his shoulder, or his neck, or his lips, hurt him with desire.

  His air was sobbing in and out of his chest when he said it again. “Please. Please. Please.”

  Dex sat back, grabbed one of Kane’s thighs in one hand and his cock in the other, and started to pound him so quickly, the slap of their flesh filled the room.

  This time Kane screamed as he came, and Dex groaned and filled Kane’s body, jerking and thrusting uncontrollably, until when he fell forward into Kane’s waiting arms, Kane felt his come sliding between his ass cheeks and his thighs, warm and sticky and real.

  They panted together in the darkness, Dex on top of him without fear, and Kane was proud because that meant he knew Kane could take it. Kane squeezed him so tight his breath hitched, and then rolled over a little so they could be side by side, skin to skin in the darkness. The unfamiliar bed squeaked beneath them, and Kane reached down
and pulled the stiff sheets, blankets, and comforter over their shoulders.

  “I love you, David,” he whispered then, aware that he could see the outside light reflected in Dex’s shiny eyes.

  “I love you too, Carlos,” Dex whispered back.

  “Can we go home?” Kane asked plaintively, shivering in the sheets and the bed that weren’t theirs. “I want to be home with you.”

  Dex closed his eyes, and Kane saw the last few tears trickle through, silver in the shadows. “You are my home,” Dex whispered, and Kane kissed the tears away.

  “Yeah,” he said, “but I can’t make the bed suck any less.”

  Dex laughed then, and kissed him, salty and sloppy, and they didn’t care. “Carlos?”

  “Yeah?”

  “If you wake up in the middle of the night with a hard-on, promise you’ll share.”

  “Don’t I always?”

  “Yeah. But tonight it’s really fuckin’ important.”

  Kane kissed his cheeks and wondered if anyone else looked hard enough to see the freckles that had been there when he was a boy, and hadn’t quite been erased by time. “I hear ya, David. I promise.”

  Dex tucked his face into Kane’s chest then and fell asleep for real, and now Kane could sleep himself, because it just might be all right.

  THEY woke up in the morning to a pounding on the door and Dex’s brother’s voice shouting, “David! David, are you in there? I’ve got Mom out here and we’re freezing our asses off! Wake up!”

  Kane sat up immediately and looked at Dex’s face as he struggled with panic. Kane had woken up in the middle of the night—twice—and Dex actually had flakes of white still on his face and his chest from the last time. His hair was standing on end and stiff with it (from the first time), his lips were swollen, and Kane had left hickeys on his neck and jaw from probably every frickin’ time. None of it masked the bruising on Dex’s cheek from his father’s backhand, but still. Normally just looking at him like this would have Kane fucking him again, slowly, on their sides, until climax roared over them like a long languorous wave, but right now?

  “Dexter, get your ass in the shower and I’ll let ’em in!”

  Dex nodded and went to root through his suitcase, but Travis pounded harder on the door and Kane hissed, “I’ll throw them in for you—but now!”

  Dex’s bare (stretched, sticky) ass disappeared around the corner, and Kane threw the comforter around the disheveled bed before pulling on his sleep pants commando and grabbing a T-shirt from his open suitcase as he passed.

  He threw open the door, stepped back, and pulled his T-shirt on as they walked in, all bundled up and shit because apparently Montana had invented that slogan “when hell freezes over.”

  They came in and Travis shut the door, and Kane lunged for his suitcase for his sweatshirt and those moccasin things Dex had bought him while they were looking for a place to sit.

  “You got the two shitty chairs or the bed,” Kane said as he pulled the sweatshirt out. The place reeked of sex—it overpowered the Chinese food, and that was saying something. “You guys make your decision, I’m gonna get him some clothes.”

  Kane already knew Dex was the crowned king of Tetris packing. Kane could tell his dirty clothes from his clean ones, because the dumb bunny actually folded his underwear, which was all kinds of wrong, but it made his job easy. Jeans, underwear, T-shirt, clean sweatshirt, socks, and moccasins. Took him two minutes while he ignored the two people behind him uncomfortably choosing the chairs.

  Kane shoved the clothes on top of the toilet, and Dex poked his face out of the curtain and wiped the water from his eyes. “What are they saying?”

  “They’re talking about American Idol. It’s all good.”

  “Sarcasm isn’t your thing!” Dex snapped, and Kane grinned at him just to piss him off. It didn’t work. Dex’s face softened, and he nodded, and Kane nodded back.

  “Take your shower, Dexter. I’ve got it from here.”

  “I’ll be out in two seconds.”

  Kane’s look heated, and he didn’t care. “Take longer than that. You’re messy.”

  He loved watching that color spread across Dex’s pale chest to his stomach. Made his morning. Dex dragged the shower curtain shut, and Kane chuckled softly to himself as he walked into the room and threw himself facedown on top of the bed before rolling to his side and propping his head up on his hand.

  “So, what can I do ya for? I’d offer you some Chinese food, but he didn’t eat last night, and he’s got dibs.” Yeah, it was cruel. He knew it. Reminding a woman who loved with stew that she’d kicked her kid out without feeding him? Salt in the goddamned wound. He was perfectly capable of being a real asshole sometimes. Not often—he certainly didn’t try to flaunt that side to Dex—but sometimes. When it really fucking mattered.

  And it worked. She made a hurt sound and looked guiltily to the leftovers on the table. Then she swallowed, reached into her purse, and pulled out a familiar small box and an unfamiliar card wrapped in a gold foil envelope. “You boys left so quickly you forgot these,” she said shakily, and Kane dropped the casual pose and grabbed.

  “Fuck,” he swore, snatching the box back like she might have contaminated it. “I would have been fucking pissed if we’d left that there.” Jesus. Dex’s present. It must have been taken downstairs when the kids had invaded their room. And Dex’s present to him. He looked at the gold foil envelope and pushed his finger along the edge, feeling a moment of wonder. As he’d gotten older, he’d realized that sometimes the best presents really were the ones without boxes. He glared up at Mrs. Worral for a second, really hating that he was going to have to do this. “Thank you,” he said stiffly. “It would have sucked to drive back to get these.”

  “We would have sent them,” she said hesitantly, and Kane squinted at her.

  “And that would have sucked less?” He got up and tucked both boxes in Dex’s luggage, because it was neater, and then turned around to them. “Is that all? Because if there’s a way we could manage to not rip his heart out again, I’m all for you guys getting the fuck out of here.” God, he really wished he was home. If he was home, he could order them out of the house. His and Dex’s house. Dex said it was his too.

  “That’s no way to talk to my mother,” Travis barked, and Kane looked at him dispassionately.

  “She lost any respect I had for her last night. So did you, dickweed. So, can I ask again, what’s your agenda here?”

  Travis looked at his mother for a moment, and to Kane’s surprise, he looked a little bit shamed. “Last night was not my idea,” he said quietly. “Dad told me I needed to be there in case things went wrong. I didn’t know… I had no idea how bad that was going to get.”

  “But we couldn’t let them… just….”

  “And Henry and Mal are okay?” Travis snapped, shocking the hell out of Kane.

  “You can’t blame that on us!” Kane said, just to make sure that wasn’t going to happen. “Whatever is happening there was going on way before we showed up!”

  “Nothing is happening there!” Mrs. Worral was so upset she actually stood up, wringing her hands around the strap of her brown leather purse. “Nothing. That’s you people making them dirty!”

  “Yeah,” Kane muttered, wanting Dex’s little house so badly his stomach cramped with it. “And David wasn’t grieving when he ran all the way to Sacramento to get the hell away from you people. God. You know, he warned me. He said that we were either going to be hiding the whole time, or it was going to get ugly. I lived through the hiding and it sucked. Now I’m living through the ugly and it sucks. But you know what? It’s gonna be fucking worth it just to get back to our house and know we’re not going to have to come to your balls-freezing state ever fucking again, and you idiots aren’t ever going to be able to hurt him like you been doing. Do you have anything good to say to him, or do I get to kick you out before he gets out of the shower?”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Mrs. Worral sn
apped. “Dragging my son back to your nasty little porn factory—”

  “Mom, he’s like, what? Five years younger than David?”

  “Eight,” Kane said, “but who’s counting. And we don’t get dragged into porn—we all got a reason.”

  “What’s yours?” Travis asked him frankly, and Kane shrugged.

  “I got tired of being used for my body by girls, figured I’d be able use my body on my own terms.”

  “And David?” Travis demanded, and Kane’s whole posture softened.

  “Your brother….” He swallowed. “Your brother… you know, my niece got diagnosed with cancer, right? And that’s a lot of doctor’s bills. So I tell my sister not to worry, I got the porn gig and I can pay for all of it. My sister says that’s great—but I gotta move out. The only person I tell—and I mean the only person I tell—is your brother. And in an hour, he’s got me scheduled in the highest-paying gigs, and I’ve got a real estate broker. That first time? I crashed on your brother’s couch for a month while I got my shit together. And this time my sister moves outta her husband’s house, but it’s the same deal, right? I gotta go. Only this time….” Kane shook his head and looked past Travis’s shoulder to three months earlier. Had he known this the first night, when Dex had needed the comfort? Had he known it the second night, when they’d both needed someone to cling to? Had he known it before he’d even asked? “This time, I wasn’t gonna sleep on the couch. And once I didn’t sleep on the couch for the first time, I wasn’t ever goin’ away.”

  “Oh God,” Dex’s mom moaned like this was horrible, but Travis didn’t.