Depth of Field (Last Chance Book 1)

by Riley Hart

There was something right about them together and even though he loved the phone calls and their weekly Skype sessions, he missed being in the same room as Shane.

  “Good. I might get jealous of you being around all those pretty boys who are naked,” Shane said pulling him out of his thoughts.

  “There’s only one pretty boy I care about seeing naked.”

  “Such a charmer. You’re good at this.” Shane cocked a brow.

  “I try,” he said, but then he asked, “Does it really bother you?” He didn’t think so. It wasn’t as if he was touching them. It was his job, but he’d never been in this place before, where he had someone whose feelings on the subject mattered.

  “No. It doesn’t. I’m giving you shit. What right would I have for that?”

  “You have all the right.”

  “Van…”

  “Shane…”

  Smiling, Shane shook his head. “No. It really doesn’t. It’s what you do. I know where the line is. Honestly? I think I just wish it could be me, too. I like the way it feels when you look at me through the lens of your camera. It’s sexy…there’s an edge to it, knowing you’re capturing me that way. That I’m sharing it with you, this thing I’ve never shared with anyone else.”

  Van’s dick started to grow beneath his boxer trunks. Well, he was pretty sure they needed to share it again. “Take your clothes off, Shane.” His voice was rough, gravelly.

  Shane didn’t hesitate to pull his shirt over his head. He pushed off his bed, set his laptop down and pulled off the basketball shorts he wore. His dick sprung free—long and fat and fuck… “I miss that pretty cock of yours. I jack off to my photos of you.”

  “That’s not fair. Don’t you think I should have some of you too?” Shane asked.

  “That can be arranged.”

  “Are you getting naked too?”

  “Is that really a question?” Van countered. He took his underwear off and tossed them aside. It wasn’t the first time they played over Skype like this and he doubted it would be the last. “I want to see your hole. Can you play with the dildo tonight?” Van asked.

  “Yeah. Of course.” Shane grabbed the lube and toy from his drawer. He pulled the dildo from the package and then sat on the bed again.

  “Lean against the headboard. Put the computer between your legs, spread them with your feet flat on the bed,” Van told him. He had his computer on his lap and already started stroking his aching prick.

  Shane situated himself the way Van had suggested. His dick was already leaking—swollen and red. He fucking loved this—exhibitionism. Who would have thought? He wasn’t sure Shane had even realized it before.

  “Spread your legs and lean back just a little more. Let me see it.”

  Shane did, opening his legs just right so Van could see his pucker—so fucking tight. A sparse trail of soft fuzz in his crack. Van really fucking dug it. Loved that Shane was natural and didn’t get rid of his body hair. “Jesus, I want my face in it,” Van said, his voice hoarse.

  “I want that too.”

  “Finger yourself for me, Shane.”

  He didn’t hesitate. He opened the lube, squirted some on his fingers and rubbed his rim in tight circles.

  “That right there. That’s the first photo I’d take of you. That initial excitement of the bliss you know is in store.”

  “Fuck yes.” Shane looked down, met Van’s eyes—the brown in them so fucking hungry and full of a need Van would do anything to fulfill. He pushed his heavy sac out of the way, pushed two fingers in, and asked, “Would you take this picture too?”

  “Up fucking close. It would kill me because I’d want the fingers to be mine but I’d be close enough to smell you, close enough to watch those fingers push in deep, which is the next best thing.”

  Pre-come spilled from Van’s dick. Jesus, he already wanted to come as he stroked slowly up and down his shaft, watching Shane finger-fuck himself.

  “Get the dildo up in you, Shane. Wanna see you stretched around it while I pretend it’s me.”

  Shane picked up the sex toy, wet it with lube and brought it to his hole. Van could see it clench, see his chest rise and fall in heavy breaths. He was so goddamn beautiful Van almost blew right there, felt his heart try to jump out of his chest.

  “Push it in real slow, for me. I want to savor this.”

  Shane did, he eased the cock inside himself inch by inch. “God, I wish I was there with you. Wish I could feel your heat while I took pictures of you looking so fucking perfect.”

  “Wish it was your dick in my ass,” Shane replied and then pushed the dildo all the way in. When he did, his eyes rolled back and a bead of sweat dripped down his temple and Van wanted to lick it. Wanted Shane’s scent all over him.

  “Look at me.”

  Shane did. Their gazes locked, Van played with his balls and stroked his cock. Shane rubbed his nipples, fucked himself on the dildo, undulating his hips as he did.

  “Fuck, Van. Always so much better when you’re watching.”

  He wanted Shane there in his bed too. Wanted to show him LA. Wanted to take turns fucking each other all damn night.

  “Didn’t think it’d be this hard.” He pushed the cock inside himself and pulled it out again. “Lived twelve years without you here and now it doesn’t feel like home without you.”

  “Oh fuck.” Van couldn’t hold it back anymore. His heart burst through his chest at the same time his balls let go and a stream of hot, sticky come shot from his prick. Shane didn’t typically say stuff like that. He held himself back more, and Van knew it was because he didn’t see how they could last and he didn’t want to get hurt, but when he said shit like that? Van always lost his damn mind.

  “Shit, already?” Shane said with a smirk, still owning his own hole.

  “What do you expect when you say stuff like that to me? Gets me in the chest and the dick at the same time. Make yourself come for me, Shane.”

  So Shane did. He played with his balls, rubbed his dick as he kept fucking his ass. Van told him how sexy he was, how much he wanted to record him, take pictures and hang them in galleries so everyone could see what was his. That people would come from miles around to see his pretty hole and thick cock. “They’d beg for it, Shane. Beg to be there when you come.”

  “Oh fuck.” Come spurt from his tip, hit his stomach and ran down his cock as Shane kept fucking, kept jerking.

  “I’d tease them, tell them they could look but not touch, because you’re mine, and only I get to see your eyes roll back and forehead sweat and all that thick fucking jizz when you come.”

  He shot again, called Van’s name and then collapsed against the bed. “Always gets you when I talk like that,” Van said.

  “Turns me on to think of someone seeing me, wanting me, even though it’s just a fantasy. Only want to be seen by you.”

  They’d talked about it before. Shane didn’t want to put on a show for anyone other than Van but he liked to play with the idea. Liked to pretend people were watching, or know there was something out there people could see.

  Shane pulled the dildo out and Van watched his hole close up.

  “You should be here to lick the mess off me.” Shane winked at him.

  “I miss your come.”

  “I miss yours too.”

  “I miss you,” Van told him.

  “I miss you too. Christ, I still don’t know how this happened.”

  Van didn’t either. “Come see me, Shane. Please.”

  Shane sighed. “I can’t. You know I can’t.”

  “No, I don’t. There are people who would help.”

  “I can’t,” Shane said again. He sat up and Van knew that just like every other time, the conversation was over.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Two weeks later

  “Motherfucker,” Shane growled as the tool fell from his hand. He had been like that all day—pissy and moody. If he were being honest, he’d admit it had been a lot longer than all day.

  He pick
ed up his wrench just as a shadow moved over him.

  “You good?” Ryan asked as Shane pushed to his feet.

  “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be good?”

  “Because you’re lonely. Because you miss Van.” Ryan shrugged. “I know what lonely looks like.”

  Yeah, Shane didn’t know why but he had a feeling Ryan did. He groaned, walked over and leaned against the car. “I didn’t expect it to be so hard. Hell, we only spent a few weeks together.” He shook his head. Sitting around and complaining about it wouldn’t change anything. His life was here, Van’s was in Los Angeles. “Anyway, I’m sure you don’t want to do this. Hear me whine about some guy like a lovesick teenager. But I want you to know I’m always here if you want to talk. Whatever it is. I’m here.”

  Ryan hadn’t ever mentioned being lonely before. He kept tight-lipped about his past.

  “Aww. Look at us. We’ve somehow become besties,” Ryan teased.

  “We have.” Shane grinned. Ryan was likely the best friend he had here.

  Ryan nodded toward the car. “Come on. Let’s get your mind off men and onto cars. Engines are a whole lot easier to deal with than people.”

  “You can say that again,” Shane replied and then the two of them got to work. Still, his mind stayed with Van most of the day. Thought about what Van asked him once or twice a week—“Come see me.” It wasn’t that Shane didn’t want to. Christ, he really fucking wanted it, but he couldn’t.

  They finished out their work day and locked up the shop.

  When they were on their way out, Ryan said, “I’m not trying to put pressure on you for anything, but if you need me for anything—extra time at the shop, helping with your mom…anything, I’m good for it.”

  Shane nodded. But how did he admit that he wasn’t only scared to leave because his mom might need him, but because he had insecurities himself?

  “Thank you.”

  He drove home with a heavy weight in his chest. He tossed a frozen pizza in the oven after his shower.

  Shane ate alone and then sat on the deck with a beer in his hand and eyed his makeshift studio.

  He hadn’t been inside since Van left. Why the fuck didn’t he go inside?

  He startled when his phone rang. He plucked it from his pocket, expecting it to be Van but was surprised when he saw it was his mom. It was her game night and they didn’t usually leave that early.

  His heart dropped to the wood at his feet and he fumbled to answer. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m coming over.”

  “Huh?” he asked.

  “I’m coming over,” his mom said. “I just wanted you to know. I don’t want you to come and get me. I just want you to know.”

  “Okay,” he replied apprehensively. “I’m on the back deck. I’ll wait for you here.”

  He didn’t argue with her or ask her why. If she wanted to come out, Shane always supported that. He yearned for it. He just wanted to know she was safe while doing so.

  It was eight and the sky wasn’t dark yet.

  His leg bounced as he waited. He took a drink of his beer and waited some more.

  It took fifteen minutes before he heard feet on the stairs. Fifteen minutes for him to breathe. Hers came out in sharp, short pants. She held her chest. Her hands shook.

  Shane pushed to his feet then but she shook her head. “I have it, Shaney. I’m fine.”

  He nodded and waited. She slowly made her way to the chair beside him and sat down. Counted. Fought to steady her breathing.

  “I wish it wasn’t so hard. Why is it so hard?” she asked.

  He rubbed her back. “Hey. You did good. Don’t beat yourself up over it. I’m damn proud of you.”

  “I didn’t want it to win. Tonight, I didn’t want my mental illness to win.”

  “It didn’t,” Shane replied.

  “You aren’t winning either,” she countered.

  Shane frowned, watched her and waited. “You miss him.”

  He shook her off. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine. I’ve been watching you for six weeks now. You want to be fine. You’re trying to be fine, but you’re not. You miss him and you want to see him and you should.”

  He felt as though he was getting it from all sides. First Ryan and now his mom. “I can’t just drop everything and go to Los Angeles. I have a shop to run.”

  “And me. That’s your real worry, isn’t it?”

  He sighed. “What does it matter what my worry is? Going to visit him won’t change a damn thing. Yeah, it will be a fun weekend but it won’t change our circumstances. He lives there and I live here.”

  They were prolonging the inevitable even by playing around with the long-distance thing.

  “It’s a start, Shane. I can’t do this.” She shook her head. “I can’t be the reason you’re alone. I’ve been a burden on you for far too long and it’s not right. It’s not fair. There are nurses who can come to me. Caregivers—”

  “No,” he cut her off. “You don’t do well with strangers. You don’t need random people coming into your home.”

  “You don’t get to tell me what I need. I’ve already made arrangements. And I talked to the ladies in my knitting club and from my game night. They’re my friends and they’ll help. You’re just like me, ya know? I blame myself. I never wanted to ask for help the same way you don’t, only I leaned on you while ignoring other options. It wasn’t right and I’m sorry, Shane.”

  Tears leaked down her face and her breathing started to get rapid again but he watched her close her eyes. Watched her fight it. Sometimes she beat the panic, others she didn’t.

  “I’m your son,” he told her.

  “That’s right. My son. Not my caregiver.”

  “What if you need me?” he asked, his voice cracking. He’d spent his life being there for her. A night in Portland was different from multiple nights in Southern California.

  “I’ll survive, because I love you and it’s time we started thinking more about what you need.”

  They sat together quietly then. Shane replayed her words over and over again. They began to blend with Van’s, with his pleas for Shane to come see him.

  What if he went, and he loved it so much he didn’t want to come home?

  What if he went, and realized freedom wasn’t what he expected it to be?

  Those two fears warred with him, and Shane didn’t know which he was more afraid of.

  A few moments later, his mom stood and placed a shaking hand on his shoulder. “Go see him, Shaney. My mental illness keeps me from experiencing life. I won’t let it do the same for you. Not anymore.” She leaned down and kissed his forehead. “I’ll call you when I get home. I want to get back before it gets dark.”

  He nodded. Kissed her hand and watched her leave. After she phoned to let him know she’d made it back okay and was going to bed, Shane turned off his mind. Ignored his fears and dialed.

  “Hey, sexy.” Van’s voice was soft, affection in his ear.

  “Do you have plans next weekend?” Shane asked.

  “No…why?”

  “Can I come and see you?”

  “Fuck yes,” Van replied. “I’d like nothing more.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Shane left his house Wednesday night for the drive to the Portland airport. He would get to LA Thursday morning and go home on Sunday.

  He checked his phone before they announced it needed to be put into airplane mode. She would be okay. Logically, he knew that. She was self-sufficient around the house. Unless she went into a depressive episode, she would be good. People were checking on her and she had everyone’s phone numbers. All her doctors knew Shane would be out of town. A caregiver was coming to the house to check on her. All her prescriptions were filled and the house stocked with food.

  So yes, she would be fine and he knew it. Now Shane himself? That was a different story.

  This was…big. The biggest thing to happen in his life and all he wanted was for it to be perfect.
>
  Hell, he hadn’t even been on a plane before.

  He wanted it though, wanted to take in every experience that he could.

  The flight was…uneventful. He couldn’t sleep and when he landed around 4 a.m., he started to feel some of the exhaustion.

  He hadn’t checked any bags, so he followed the signs to the pickup area.

  He’d told Van he could take a cab to his place but hadn’t been surprised when Van told him “fuck no.”

  Shane made his way toward the doors when he saw a familiar head of dark curls and heard the commotion as everyone pointed and smiled and took pictures.

  Van stood there holding a sign as though he was a driver Shane had ordered. Only the sign didn’t just say his name, because this was Van they were talking about.

  Shane Wallace, AKA Sexy Motherfucker.

  He was going to fucking kill Van, or you know, not, since he couldn’t wipe the cheesy grin off his face. Shane had missed him. His chest suddenly felt too damn light.

  Shane reached for him, grabbed Van and pulled him close. “You’re crazy.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m crazy about you. You know that, right?” Shane asked before pulling Van in for a searing kiss. Some people laughed and cheered while others shoved around them not giving a shit.

  “I didn’t think you’d come,” Van said when they pulled away.

  “You thought I would change my mind?” He couldn’t blame Van for worrying about that but it bruised his ego at the same time.

  “I don’t know what I thought, Shane. I’m just glad you’re here. Come on. Let’s get you back to my place to rest because there’s not going to be a whole lot of it the rest of the weekend.”

  Shane checked his phone again before following Van out of LAX.

  It was still dark out but the airport was still loud and crazy. Cars were fighting each other as they made their way to a parking lot.

  “I see why you enjoyed the quiet back home,” Shane told him, still unable to believe he was there in Los Angeles with Van.

  “Yeah, I know. I mean, sometimes I love it. I’ve always enjoyed the excitement of the city, but, after going back, I realize I miss the quiet too. Both have their place. I need to find a way to have it all.” He winked.