by Scotty Cade
Hawk frowned but didn’t respond, causing Garner to backpedal a little and justify his statement. “I know it sounds awful when I use the word ‘stereotype’ out loud, but the real truth is that most people meet someone for the first time and categorize or pigeonhole them from the get-go. And I’m sorry to say, mostly because of my profession, I’m one of those people.”
Hawk cocked that one eye open again and waited. When Garner hesitated, Hawk said, “Go on,” in a dubious tone.
“I guess I was so intrigued with you—and still am, by the way—that I started putting together everything I knew about you. Ya know, to try and figure out what makes you tick. Now this is where it’s gonna get a little iffy, so if you want me to stop, tell me now and we’ll talk about something else.”
Hawk pushed himself up and rested on his elbow, cradling his head in his hand. He looked right into Garner’s eyes. “Are you kidding, it’s just getting good,” he said. “I can’t wait to hear this.”
“Ooookay, but remember your words before you hit me,” Garner teased.
Hawk smiled and rested his hand on Garner’s hip, but he didn’t promise one way or the other.
“So here’s everything I knew about you when I came up with my analysis earlier today. You’re a scary dude. You’re covered in tattoos. You’re pierced all the hell over, and you like really rough sex.”
“So far your description of me is pretty accurate,” Hawk said.
“Sooooo,” Garner began. “Let’s start with the sex. There are a shitload of possibilities that are pretty well documented. Studies have shown that some people who like really rough sex can have serious fears of intimacy and or a mental and physical disconnect between love and sex.
“Other studies suggest that adults who like rough sex can also be associated with childhood physical or sexual abuse. In a lot of cases, the victim doesn’t believe he or she deserves to be loved in a gentle, loving, or nurturing way. And continuing with the abuse theory, domination and power can also play a role. In those cases the adult feels that he or she had no power to stop the abuse when it was happening, so they must exert that power now. But that one didn’t apply to you, for obvious reasons,” Garner explained, rubbing Hawk’s ass. “You can be pretty submissive, at least so far.”
At that comment, Hawk opened his mouth to speak, but Garner held a hand up to stop him. “Please let me get everything out before you start waling on me.”
Hawk closed his mouth and shook his head.
“Now let’s talk about your tats and piercings,” Garner suggested. “If you hadn’t told me that your parents were ministers who were rational, accepting parents, I would have guessed that your parents had been unwed teenagers with drug and or alcohol addictions that cared little or nothing about you or your upbringing.
“I also considered that you could have been a child of a single working mother who wasn’t around a lot, and you had no real male influence in his life. Any of those options could have had a negative effect on you and your self-esteem, causing you to act out in appearance and behavior.”
Garner squeezed Hawk’s hand. “You okay so far?”
“Are you done?” Hawk asked.
“Almost,” Garner said, rubbing his palm over Hawk’s stomach. “After I learned you had loving and supportive parents, I was stumped and back at square one. But now that I know you were adopted and have heard some of your story, I now realize I wasn’t that far from the truth. But I want to clarify. I’m not judging you. And I’ll go out even farther out on the proverbial limb and say that I’m very attracted to you and am enjoying immensely getting to know you, and not as a psychological project. As a person.
“Here’s the kicker. Everything I’ve said so far can be supported in many psychological studies, journals, and reports. Hell, a person can usually use the Internet to find a study or multiple studies that he or she can use to support any particular theory or belief. It’s just out there, but none of it should be taken as gospel. In fact, a lot of it can just be written off as psychobabble that has nothing to do with a person’s true motivation. In my opinion and experience, psychology is a study at best.
“With all that said, a person could have had the most loving parents in the world, the most normal childhood ever, and just simply love tattoos, piercings, and rough sex just for the sake of loving it. In which case, disregard everything I just said. It’s all crap.”
“Are you done now?” Hawk asked with no expression.
Garner nodded and waited to get his due.
“First of all, what are you, dude? A fucking psychiatrist?”
Here it comes! “As a matter of fact, I am—or was anyway,” Garner explained. “Still licensed but no longer practicing.”
Hawk rolled his eyes, but Garner didn’t detect any outward signs of anger. “Sounds like you’re still practicing to me.”
Garner chuckled. “I guess it kinda does,” he said wryly. “It’s just… when you’ve done it for as long as I have, it’s really hard to turn off. Especially when the human psyche still amazes me, even after sixteen years of education and practice. But… there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. I’m hoping the longer I’m away from it, the less desire I’ll have to analyze everyone.”
Hawk suddenly got an inquisitive look on his face. “So how long have you been away from it?”
“Let’s see,” Garner said, doing the math. “One month preparing for the trip, two months on the water initially, almost two months in Savannah while my engine was replaced, and two weeks from Savannah to Key West, so not quite six months.”
Hawk nodded. “So here’s a question for you.”
“Shoot,” Garner said.
“What made you give up your practice for this?” Hawk asked, waving his free hand through the air and then laying it back down on top of Garner’s.
“Burnout,” Garner replied. “When your brain doesn’t have an off switch, you never get any downtime. I just got burned out and decided I couldn’t do it anymore.”
“Got it,” Hawk said. “But I’m pretty sure, based on your analysis of me, you still miss it.”
“Guilty as charged,” Garner replied. “But wait! Before we jump subjects, you never really commented on that.”
“On what?”
“My analysis.”
“Oh, that.” Hawk looked up at the ceiling and appeared to be chewing on the inside of his cheek while he contemplated his answer. He looked back at Garner. “To be honest, a lot of what you said could be considered spot-on, and some of it I’ll need to think more about. But some of it was just plain old crap. As it applies to me anyway.”
Garner felt his eyes widen and his jaw drop.
“What?” Hawk asked in a suspicious tone.
“I guess I just didn’t expect that response.”
“What? You expected the scary dude to get all defensive, go apeshit, and call you crazy?”
“Yeah,” Garner replied. “I kinda did.”
Hawk shook his head. “There you go stereotyping again.”
“Sorry, you’re right,” Garner said. “So can you tell me what was spot-on, what needs considering, and what you think was crap?”
“I could, but I’m not Dr. Smarty Dude,” Hawk said wryly. “I want to see if you can figure that one out on your own.”
“Fair enough,” Garner said before leaning in and placing a gentle kiss on Hawk’s lips.
When Garner withdrew, Hawk said, “Okay, it’s your turn.”
“Okay, what do you want to know?” Garner asked.
“Start at the beginning.”
Garner gave Hawk the Reader’s Digest version of his life to date, covering his family and upbringing, his education and career, his failed relationships, his burnout and retirement, buying his boat, his stay in Savannah, and eventually how he ended up in Key West.
“So you run too, huh,” Hawk said, stifling a yawn.
“Wait! What?” Garner asked. “I don’t run?”
Hawk raised an eyebrow. “Seri
ously?”
“I mean, yeah, I seriously suck at relationships, so I guess you can say I run from them,” Garner admitted. “But I don’t think I’m running from anything else.”
“If you say so,” Hawk replied, laying his head back down on the pillow and closing his eyes.
Am I running? “I never thought about myself as being a runner,” Garner admitted, tossing the idea around in his head. “Maybe I am running.”
“Doctors are always the worst patients,” Hawk said without opening his eyes.
FOR THE longest time, Garner lay there in silence thinking about the topic of running away. I guess I could say I ran away from my family and my previous life? I was building a good life in Savannah, and I left there as well. Did I leave because Hank and Thompson were getting so close?
Garner’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Hawk’s light snoring as he turned away and backed his ass against Garner’s crotch so they were now spooning, Garner’s arm again resting on his stomach.
Garner tightened his grip, rested his head on Hawk’s shoulder, and closed his eyes. He listened to Hawk’s peaceful breathing, mixed with the occasional snort, until he eventually gave in to slumber.
Sometime later, Garner felt Hawk slip out of his embrace. Garner opened his eyes to see Hawk’s peacock staring back him as Hawk sat on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees and cradling his head. A couple of minutes later Hawk stood and paused like he was trying to make a decision.
He must have to go to the bathroom. Maybe he’s disoriented.
Before Garner could ask if he was okay, Hawk took a step. And then another, moving right past the head and going out into the salon.
Garner slipped out of the bed, still naked, and walked over to the doorway. He leaned on the doorjamb, folded his arms over his chest, and crossed his bare feet at the ankles. He observed Hawk picking up his scattered clothing and putting them on one by one. When Hawk was completely dressed, he put his socked foot on the bottom step.
Garner cleared his throat. “Leaving without saying goodbye?”
Hawk stopped but didn’t turn around. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Oh come on, Hawk,” Garner said. “We can be honest here. The first time I sort of understood, but this time? Is this your MO?”
“I’m sorry,” Hawk said, taking another step. “I never stay.”
“No need to apologize,” Garner said. “I run from relationships too, remember? But hey, at least you helped Dr. Smarty Dude determine which part of his analysis was spot-on.”
Hawk stopped again. This time he turned around and when their eyes met, the expression on Hawk’s face was painfully obvious, even in the dimly lit cabin.
“Does the term ‘fear of intimacy’ ring a bell?” Garner asked, turning and disappearing into his cabin. He heard the sound of the companionway door sliding open and closing again as he crawled back in bed.
Chapter 8
HAWK STEPPED onto the dock, bent down and picked up his Doc Martens, and slowly walked the three slips over to his boat. He felt like a heel sneaking out on Garner, but he was glad that Garner had caught him. In Garner’s stateroom, he’d tried to convince himself to stay, but something deep inside of him just wouldn’t allow it.
The words Garner had said to him, “Does the term ‘fear of intimacy’ ring a bell?” flooded his ears. The fact was that Garner’s analysis had been right on the money. In so many ways, except for the sexual abuse, he’d hit the nail right on the head. But hell, he might as well have been raped, then he’d have one more thing to blame his lame behavior on. Hawk suddenly remembered Justin recounting his story about being raped and regretted his thought as soon as it occurred to him.
Hawken Bristol, you are majorly and severely fucked up, my friend.
He threw his shoes into the cockpit of his boat, climbed on board, and opened the door to the salon. The boat was in total darkness except for a dim light filtering its way into the salon from a lone lamp he’d left on in his V-berth. Hawk welcomed the darkness. It kept him from having to look at his face in the large wall mirror behind the couch. He glanced at the clock on his way to the galley. Four thirty-five in the morning. “Jesus,” he said to himself. “Garner and I talked for almost four hours.”
He took a beer out of the refrigerator, twisted off the cap, and threw it in the sink. He went back to the salon, plopped down on the couch, and took a pull off his beer. The cold liquid felt good against his parched throat. Four hours?
“That’s probably the longest conversation I’ve had with anyone other than Justin in who knows how long,” he said out loud.
The simple fact was that he liked the damn guy. He’d known him all of one day, but over the course of that day, they’d had sex twice, once hard, fast, and rough and once slow and easy, and he’d enjoyed both times immensely. In addition, in that one day, he’d shared more about himself and learned more about someone else than he had in all the years he’d been in Key West.
Sure Garner was a little uptight, but he’d also pretty much confirmed that he had issues of his own. That fact alone made Hawk feel like his pile of crap might not immediately stand up and sing “Crazy Train” by Ozzy Osbourne. And they’d both said at one point or another they weren’t good at relationships, so there was really no real pressure there.
Hawk, you’ve already broken your golden rule and tapped the guy twice, so what have you got to lose? He runs from relationships, and you apparently have intimacy issues, among others, so it sounds like this is a purely sexual thing and probably is going to be over before it starts. Why not enjoy the ride while it lasts?
His mind made up, Hawk downed the rest of his beer, stepped out of the salon into the cockpit, hopped back onto the dock in his sock feet, and marched right over to AquaTherapy. He walked into Garner’s stateroom and stripped, pulled the covers back, and slid into the bed. He moved his back against Garner chest and nuzzled his ass against Garner’s groin.
“Keep that up,” Garner said, “and we’re never going to get any sleep.”
Hawk stilled and reached behind his back, found Garner’s arm, and wrapped it around his waist.
He felt Garner tighten his hold. “Welcome back.”
“Fuck intimacy issues,” Hawk said. “Good night.”
Hawk felt the bed begin to shake from Garner’s laughter. After a while it settled once more, and Garner kissed him on the shoulder and whispered, “Good night.”
HAWK WOKE to the sound of a cell phone ringing. When Garner rolled over, Hawk turned with him and snuggled his chest up against Garner’s warm back. He listened as Garner slapped the bedside table a few times in search of his phone.
“Hello,” Garner said in a sleepy voice.
“Oh hey, Hank. Is everything all right?” he asked, rising up and leaning on his elbow.
“Good, glad to hear it. What the hell time is it anyway?”
Hawk felt Garner lay his head back down onto his pillow and stretch out again. “No shit? It can’t be noon.”
Noon? Hawk opened his eyes and rolled over onto his back and looked at the porthole over the bed. The sunshade was pulled, but light was beaming in around all the edges.
“No, Hank, I believe you.” Hawk heard Garner say into the phone as he too rolled over onto his back.
Time for a little fun! Hawk lifted the covers, threw a leg on top of Garner, and straddled him, Garner’s eyes widening with each passing second. Hawk pulled the covers over his head, and he slid down to align his face with Garner’s crotch.
“This weekend?” Garner asked. “Sure, I’d love to see you guys. Who’s gonna cover the marina?”
Silence.
“Oh, Bubba. Yeah, he’ll do fine. I imagine that most of the snowbirds are already where they’re going to be by now.”
Hawk heard a gasp when he took Garner’s cock into his mouth. He buried his face in Garner’s groin, nuzzling his nose deep into Garner’s pubic hairs and inhaling deeply before he started moving up and down.
“Oh, nothing. Just a frog in my throat,” Garner said, apparently thinking quickly on his back and starting to move along with Hawk’s efforts.
Hawk chuckled around a mouthful. More like a frog in my throat. He pulled all the way off and then went back down, taking Garner’s now fully erect cock all the way up to the hilt.
Hawk’s ears perked up when he heard Garner say, “Fishing charter? Yeah, sounds like fun, and I know just the guy. Yep, Saturday morning. I’ll see if he’s available.”
Hawk nodded, giving the go-ahead while never missing a beat.
“As a matter of fact, I know he’s available,” he heard Garner say. “I’ll take care of all the details.
“What time—” Garner started, stopping short when his voice cracked. Hawk smiled against Garner’s groin and kept right on moving. God, I’m loving this.
Garner cleared his throat. “No really, I’m fine. What time do you think you guys will arrive?”
More silence.
“Yeah, with the traffic, six o’clock sounds about right. … I’m looking forward to seeing you guys too. … Drive safely, now, and give Thompson a hug for me. … Okay, Hank. See you Friday afternoon.”
Hawk heard the cell phone hit the bedside table. He had a pretty good idea of what was coming next.
“You little shit,” Garner hissed and started to sit up, but Hawk picked up his speed and applied more pressure, and Garner fell onto his back again. “Jesus, Hawk, I’m so close.”
Hawk continued his steady movements and prepared himself when Garner arched his back and tensed up just before he shot his load down Hawk’s throat. Hawk continued to work Garner’s cock until he’d milked every drop out of him, then released him and popped his head out from under the covers to see if Garner was still alive.
