His balls tightened, and he forced himself back from the edge, slowing it down again, loving how Dylan whimpered and grasped at him. “Bastard. Need to come. So bad. Get me there. Please.”
“I will,” Apollo promised.
“Now.” Dylan bucked, his cock bouncing against his stomach, painting a slick trail that made Apollo’s mouth water and made him wish he had far more flexibility. Instead, he reached for it, stroking with the lightest grip he was capable of.
“Oh you...more. Please, okay, please.”
“That’s it. Tell me what you need.”
“Make me come. Please make me come. Use your hand on my dick. Please.”
“Oh yeah.” Apollo’s whole body hummed, and he picked up speed again, matching his hand to his hips’ tempo.
“Gonna come.” Dylan’s eyes squished shut and his body practically levitated with tension, back arching, arms straining, ass lifting. “Apollo.”
“Right with you.” Apollo couldn’t have stopped his orgasm even for a flashbang right then. Dylan’s clutching grasp and needy sounds made it impossible not to join him, not to give in to the driving need for completion.
A warm splash hit Apollo’s stomach and he was done, muffling his shout against Dylan’s face. It felt like dying, every damn time with Dylan, like the force of his orgasm might do him in, like he wasn’t possibly strong enough to bear it. Which was ridiculous because he was strong enough for anything the world threw at him, and yet, this guy completely unmanned him, turned him inside out, made him weak even as power surged through him.
Afterward, he pulled out carefully, grabbing the towel from the floor to wipe them off before collapsing next to Dylan. Dylan snuggled into him, head on Apollo’s shoulder, body warm in his arms.
“Don’t leave yet, m’kay?” Dylan murmured. Something in his voice made it hard for Apollo to breathe.
“I won’t.” Apollo blindly reached for the alarm clock, feeling for the buttons.
“Whatcha doing?” Dylan turned in his arms.
“Setting an alarm. I should be back in my bed before the girls wake up, but I want to sleep with you awhile.” Apollo couldn’t articulate why it was so hard to leave this man, why he needed more time skin to skin, more time with Dylan pressed against him.
“You going to get weird on me in the morning?” Dylan opened one eye, staring Apollo down with accusation that he totally deserved. He had been running hot and cold on Dylan for weeks now.
“No.” Apollo’s laugh was a bit shaky. “Or at least I hope not. We’ve only got so much time left. No point in wasting it.”
“Agreed.” Dylan sighed, and Apollo tried not to hear the sadness in his voice. Fuck. He wished so many things. He wished he were different and could give Dylan what he needed, what he deserved. Wished the summer could stretch on endlessly. Wished they could simply stay in bed, no pesky real world intruding. But Apollo knew well and good that wishes were nothing more than dust held together with hope, impossible to hold and foolish to dwell on. Life was full of bittersweet truth, not wishes, and he needed to remember that even as he pulled Dylan closer.
Chapter Eighteen
“My cape came loose!” Maya, one of the twins’ day camp friends, pulled on Dylan’s arm.
“All right, sweetie. I’ll fix it.” Dylan offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. All the kids were going nuts waiting for the performance to start. The classroom was full of kids in capes, whirling in circles, climbing on desks, pretend fighting, and singing the song from the group number. Getting them all into their costumes and lined up was taking about twice as long as the actual play would take. The play was a short little one-act production that he and Allie had penned about how all kids could be superheroes, hence all the capes and costumes.
“Now, you guys need to wait with Miss Allie while I go out and sign in your parents, okay?”
“Is Baba coming?” Chloe cut right in front of him.
“He’s going to try. But your grandmas are coming and that should be fun!” Dylan tried to soften the blow of Apollo’s possible no-show. When they’d talked last night, Apollo was still waiting to hear whether he could get time off approved for the afternoon. “Now let me go work the front desk, okay?”
“Okay.” She danced away with Maya, whose cape was askew again.
Leaving the kids with two other staffers, Dylan strode down the hallway that led to the front desk area where he had Allie waiting to check in the parents who were coming to watch the show. The process of checking IDs and signing people in and out could get tedious, but Dylan was all for safety measures for his campers.
Too bad you don’t have safety measures for your heart. Alone like this for the first time in hours, his brain sped back to thoughts of Apollo. Last night’s conversation about today had come very late and very naked—a not infrequent occurrence over the past two weeks. Apollo had been pulling a lot of late hours on some training project that was so highly classified all Dylan got were some vague grunts about its purpose. But in addition to being more tired, Apollo had also been a lot more attentive—hanging out with Dylan while he worked on stuff for the play, eating the food Dylan saved for him and talking while they cut out decorations or pressed seams.
And talking inevitably led to touching and making out and straight up to Dylan’s bed, but it was the talking that was most dangerous. Talking made him think that maybe this was real, maybe they could have a future together, because he’d never met anyone he enjoyed hanging out with more than Apollo. It didn’t matter whether they watched TV or laminated superhero masks—everything was more interesting with Apollo around. And he could feel himself relaxing in a way he didn’t with other friends. Something about Apollo’s solidity, all his rules and systems and routines, grounded Dylan, made it easier for him to do his thing, knowing he had that to return to.
But not for much longer. Apollo’s mother would be back end of next week, with Dustin due to return any day now too. July had sped by, and now he could hear the drumbeat of September drowning out what was left of August. They hadn’t talked about it, but Dylan knew that everything they’d built these past weeks was about to change.
“Hey!” Allie looked up from the desk as he approached. She finished signing in Maya’s parents and directing them to the gymnasium for the show, then turned to him. “Did you hear back from the interview?”
Dylan made a noncommittal sound as he looked at the log book—no Apollo or Marilyn and Pat yet. No offense to his friend, but he really didn’t want to talk about the job. He still hadn’t told Apollo about applying for it and that needed to happen—tonight. Tonight when the house was quiet and Apollo was relaxed, he’d bring it up. Gently. And maybe it wouldn’t be such a big deal. Heck, as long as he was thinking positively, maybe Apollo would welcome the news. And then tomorrow morning, the task having gone much better than all his fears, he’d call Allie for a rehash.
Yeah, that was exactly how it would go down. He tried to visualize it the same way he did in a soccer game—imagined himself making the right play at the right moment.
“Dylan!” Marilyn and Pat bustled in through the double doors of the rec center. Marilyn’s long flowing vest flapped behind her as she asked, “We’re not late, are we?”
“Nope. Right on time.” His smile for both of them came easily—he genuinely liked both women. The quieter, efficient Pat and the more social, generous Marilyn were both easy to be around, and their adoration of the girls was clear. “You know the drill for signing in, right?”
“Of course.” Unlike some of the parents, Apollo and the grandmothers never argued with the safety procedures. Heck, the way Apollo fussed over the girls, it was amazing that he hadn’t suggested additional security measures.
“Did Apollo text you? He’s on his way.” Pat handed over her ID and signed the sheet.
“That’s great.�
�� Dylan kept his voice and expression neutral. After all, it wasn’t him Apollo was coming to see, and any leap in his pulse needed to be because he was happy for the girls, period. “The play is down that hall—”
“I’m here.” Apollo rushed in. Dylan was never going to get tired of the sight of him in uniform, shiny black shoes and shiny gold belt buckle glimmering under the room’s fluorescent lights, and biceps bulging under the khaki shirt sleeves.
“Wonderful.” Marilyn hugged him. Dylan knew from experience now that Apollo wasn’t much of a hugger, but he always seemed to tolerate it with good humor from the girls and Marilyn and Pat. “I can’t wait to see what the kids have come up with.”
Apollo smiled at him, the warmth in his gaze melting Dylan’s resolve to be objective about his presence. “Dylan’s been working so hard on this. You’ll love the costumes. I’m excited to see all his hard work come together.”
The pride in Apollo’s voice was unmistakable, and Dylan couldn’t remember the last time someone had been so proud of him—not Dustin or his parents or a boss. And sure, Apollo had been around when he’d been working on this, but he hadn’t realized that Apollo had really seen him.
“That’s wonderful,” Marilyn enthused, reaching out to squeeze Dylan’s arm. Apollo’s tender gaze didn’t leave him, and for a shimmering moment, he believed everything might be okay, that he and Apollo could have a future together, that Apollo would understand about the job application, that all that affection meant something.
“The girls were practicing the songs when we had them last week for dinner. Sophia’s voice sounds so much like Neal at that age,” Pat said, eyes going soft and wistful.
And just like that, the warmth fled from Apollo, who looked away, the walls that shielded him from his grief firmly back in place. Pat hadn’t meant to be hurtful—the woman didn’t really have a spiteful bone in her small body, but even so, her words pierced Dylan’s bubble of happiness.
The girls were always going to be Apollo’s and Neal’s, and he was always going to be an outsider on this little family. And even knowing that, he was still hungry for more of that pride and affection from Apollo.
You’re so fucked. He took a deep breath, made sure his voice was pleasant and light when he said, “The gym is down that hall. Need me to show you?”
“Nah, we’re good.” Apollo’s eyes met Dylan’s for an instant before he ushered his mothers-in-law down the hall, his look indecipherable—part pride maybe, part regret, and possibly part encouragement, but for what, Dylan couldn’t be sure. Yeah, they were well and truly overdue for the talk Dylan dreaded. But that would have to wait. Right then, the show had to go on.
* * *
Apollo shifted on the hard metal folding chair in the gym. He was going to need some serious hot tub time to loosen up his back muscles—maybe with Dylan, which was a nice thought. Funny how before Dylan he’d dreaded the hours of emptiness after the girls went to bed, but now he counted down to bedtime, anticipating when he’d next be alone with Dylan. Next to him, Marilyn and Pat were rapt in their attention on the front of the room where all the kids were clustered together, capes flapping and superhero masks drooping, and all together rather adorable. But even though Apollo knew his focus should be on the girls, his eyes kept drifting over to Dylan, who stood off to the side, microphone in hand.
“And so—say it with me—anyone can be a superhero.” Dylan coached the kids, queuing up what Apollo assumed was the final musical number, the kids singing along with a tinny recording of some recent pop song about finding happiness. The kids zoomed around, pretend flying as the song came to a close.
Somehow Dylan had given each of the kids at least one speaking line, and even their dancing seemed designed to make sure that every kid got a few moments out front where their family could get a good photo. He was a genius for stuff like that—making sure things were fair for everyone. The same weird pride Apollo had felt all afternoon bloomed again, an unfamiliar yet not unpleasant tightness in his chest.
My guy’s pretty awesome. But of course Dylan wasn’t his guy. Couldn’t be and Apollo might as well be dreaming about the fairy castle mural on the gym wall as imagining that Dylan would care how proud Apollo was. Dylan radiated self-confidence up there in front of the room. He didn’t need bolstering, not the way Neal had—
Neal.
Apollo hadn’t thought about him the whole performance, which was unusual as normally at an event like this he couldn’t get Neal off his mind, thinking about how much Neal would like seeing the girls, how much he was missing. He’d felt a pang when Pat had mentioned him back at the check-in, but that had quickly evaporated in the face of joy at seeing the girls so happy and the distraction of Dylan.
And God, he was positively addicted to the distraction that was Dylan. The past two weeks had been hell at work with the admiral coming down hard about a training exercise that was due to start that morning, and coming home to Dylan and sharing time with him—and, okay, yes, the sex too—was the best part of Apollo’s day. Dylan made him feel more grounded, more able to deal with the pressures of work, more able to cope with the demands of the girls. It probably wasn’t the healthiest to think of Dylan as his human stress ball, but that’s exactly what he was for Apollo.
“My. Such a crush of people.” Pat touched Apollo’s arm, getting his attention away from his thoughts of Dylan. At the front of the room, it was indeed chaos as parents claimed kids and other children hopped around. Everyone seemed to want a piece of Dylan as he had a large circle of smiling parents vying for his attention.
“Do you think we should wait with you? Or maybe we should catch up later?” As always, Marilyn was protective of Pat’s nervousness around crowds.
“Why don’t you go on? I’ll text you later and maybe we can do dinner, and then you can show the girls all the pictures you took.” Apollo wasn’t any too eager to fight through the crowd himself, but on his own he could hang back, survey the pandemonium the way he would a training exercise. And he also didn’t have to worry about what Pat and Marilyn might guess at between him and Dylan. He’d barely restrained himself from hugging Dylan when he’d arrived, and lord, that would have been all sorts of awful.
You still wanted it, in-law horror and all. Yeah, he had, and the guilt only added to the sludge of emotions in his gut.
Finally, the crowd started to dissipate, parents and kids heading back down the hall to check out with the staffers manning the front desk. His twins were still twirling around with a few friends up front when Apollo stepped forward.
“Baba! I waved at you!” Chloe grabbed his hand.
“I saw.” Apollo smiled at her.
“You guys did great.” Dylan stepped closer to them. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Me too.” Apollo’s throat was thick, and despite his better judgment, he tried to tell Dylan with his eyes that he meant him too. Chloe scampered away, back to playing with her sister and friend, and still his and Dylan’s eyes held. “The play was great.”
“It was. Such a success!” The director, a woman with a long gray ponytail, came up to them. “And I didn’t catch you earlier, but I understand congratulations are in order?”
“Pardon?” Apollo’s heart sped up. What had Dylan told this woman about them? Did he really think—
“Dylan’s been named assistant director at one of the Boys and Girls club locations for the upcoming school year. I know many of our families are going to be thrilled at this news. They’ll probably see enrollments increase just because he’s there.”
“They will?” Apollo blinked, trying to digest this news. Years of military service had him schooling his expression and his tone, even as his head swam.
“Oh, of course. Dylan’s our most popular staffer.” The woman beamed, and Apollo was torn between pride for Dylan and wanting to throttle the guy for keeping this news a secret. �
�I should probably head back to the front, but it was nice seeing you, Lieutenant. So glad you got time off to come.”
Apollo made a noise that he hoped passed for agreement.
She laughed, a sound far too light for the heaviness in Apollo’s limbs. “Dylan, Allie and I will handle lock-up if you want to go with the girls.”
For his part, Dylan looked like he was trying not to hurl, as green as a newbie before jump training, and not meeting Apollo’s eyes. Yeah, he knew he’d fucked up, but Apollo couldn’t muster up much sympathy. “Thanks,” he croaked as the director walked away.
Apollo waited until she was out of earshot before saying, “So. A job for the fall, huh?”
“I was going to tell you. Tonight. I had a plan...”
“I bet you did,” Apollo said dryly, unable to keep his frustration from leaching into his voice. “They didn’t just hand you this, right? You had to apply and interview and all that?”
“Yeah,” Dylan said weakly. “And I wanted to tell you, but the timing never seemed right—”
“Because you were too busy lying and acting like you were headed back to Oregon in a few weeks?” Okay, more than a little frustration was showing now even as he kept his voice down. But damn it, the only reason he’d trusted himself to get involved with Dylan was the limited time frame.
“No!” Dylan’s voice was as wounded as his big blue eyes. “That’s not how it was. I wasn’t getting any job leads, and then this came up, and I figured it wasn’t a big deal—”
Apollo made a scoffing noise because they both knew that was a lie. This was a huge deal, and a muscle in his jaw leaped as he tried to keep control of himself. Had Dylan planned this all along? Figured he could seduce Apollo into something more? Or was it more wishful thinking on his part and Apollo was about to crush him? Fuck. This was a total no-win scenario.
Whir. Whir. Apollo’s phone jangled in his pocket with the special vibration he’d assigned calls from the base. He pulled it out and his gut sank into the scuffed gym floor when he saw the message—an emergency code that almost never got used that meant get to base ASAP because something was very wrong with one of the training operations he oversaw.
At Attention Page 17
