by A. E. Wasp
“Why do you that say it like it’s a bad thing?” Troy asked, hands on his hips.
“It’s not. I’m impressed. You’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. And you like Kipling?”
“I don’t know,” Dmitri said with a smile. “I’ve never Kippled. Yes!” He pumped his fist. “I’ve always wanted to be able to say that. Yes!”
Troy laughed. “You’re an idiot.”
“And you’re a freakin’ altar boy. And I’m starving. Let’s go back into town; I’ll buy dinner.”
“You’re on.”
“I was an altar boy, you know. For real.”
Dmitri stared at him for a long sentence. “I’m going to hell.” He shook his head and turned away.
Troy’s truck crunched over the gravel in Dmitri’s driveway. The sky still held the faintest light from the long summer sunset, tinting the bottom of the clouds bright orange. Their dark purple tops pressed against the stars just beginning to appear. Moby slept in the back seat, feet twitching in a dog dream. Dmitri leaned against Troy in violation of various seatbelt laws, Troy’s arm around him. He felt like the girl in a Taylor Swift song.
Troy put the truck into park. “Last stop. Everyone off.”
“I don’t want to go to work tomorrow. Let’s run away.”
“Nope. You have to go to work and help cure canine cancer. I can’t be party to keeping that work from getting done.”
Dmitri sighed. “Fine.” He pushed up and away from Troy. Troy opened his door, and Dmitri followed suit, calling for Moby as he did. The dog opened one eye, then yawned, stretched and crawled slowly from the cab. “I feel you,” Dmitri commiserated.
At the back of the truck, Troy handed him his duffel bag. “So, we survived the Fourth of July,” Dmitri said.
“Yeah, we did. And you survived camping with no bathroom.”
Dmitri closed his eyes. “Don’t remind me.”
“But now you know what an e-tool is good for.”
“I feel so manly.”
Troy moved in close, wrapping his hand around Dmitri’s hip. “Oh, you’re all man, baby.”
Dmitri laughed with Troy. “That was so cheesy. I shouldn’t even kiss you.”
“But you will, right?”
Dmitri tilted his head down and kissed him in answer. The kiss was as amazing as all the other ones had been. He wished he knew why kissing Troy was so much better than kissing anyone else had been. It scared him a little, this strong feeling. He felt like he was already too dependent on Troy’s presence.
“Thank you,” Troy said,
“Thank you,” Dmitri echoed.
Troy stood there, looking at him as if he was waiting for something. Dmitri could hear his shower calling his name, and he just wanted to get into his room, climb into bed, and think all this through. He desperately needed some quiet so he could try and make sense of all the thoughts swirling around in his head. “So, I guess I’d better get going. Get ready for work tomorrow and all that.”
Maybe the smile in Troy’s eyes fell a bit; maybe it was Dmitri’s imagination. Either way, it didn’t stop him from nodding. “See you later?” he asked.
“Definitely. I’ll call you.” Dmitri’s head was already halfway into work he had left unfinished on Friday. It was the curse of every Sunday afternoon.
“Yeah, okay.” Troy walked to the front of the truck.
Dmitri’s phone beeped as it caught up with all the notifications it couldn’t send while he was out of range. “Wait,” he said as Troy opened the door. “Do you have Facebook?” He pulled his phone out of his pocket.
“Yeah.”
“What name is it under?”
“Troy Johnson.”
Dmitri punched his touch screen, searching for Troy’s name. “This it?” He turned the screen to Troy.
“A’yep.” He seemed amused, but Dmitri didn’t care. He loved it. He and Angel had epic conversations over chat.
“Great. I sent you a friend request. If you accept, we can talk during the week. I don’t always have cell service in the lab, but I can get Facebook no problem. And I hate talking on the phone. People always listening to your conversation. It’s awkward.”
“Okay. So I should keep an eye out for messages?”
“Only if you want to.” Dmitri couldn’t get a read on his reaction, and he just wanted to get inside.
“I want to. Talk to you soon?” Troy slid behind the wheel.
“Definitely.” Dmitri stepped out of the way as Troy backed up. He was in the house before Troy had pulled all the way down the driveway.
chapter seventeen
How do you feel about opera? Dmitri’s latest Facebook message popped up on Troy’s phone. As promised, the boy was a big chatter. Nice for him on the computer. Troy was usually on his phone, and he felt like an idiot typing out three-word answers to Dmitri’s long, chatty messages. Especially when two of the three words were either typed poorly or auto-corrected into something completely nonsensical.
Can’t say I’m a huge fan, he replied. Only took him two tries this time.
Me neither, came the immediate response. Want to go on Thursday? Experimental opera and a lecture on Inherit the Wind and the Scopes Monkey Trial.
What’s my incentive? Truthfully, he hadn’t seen Dmitri in a week, and he’d take pretty much any excuse to spend time with him.
Free booze and appetizers?
I work in a bar
My company, the opportunity to mock people, and sex on a real bed?
Troy laughed out loud, shocked by the bluntness. For some reason, he’d expected Dmitri to be shy about sex or reluctant to talk about it. He’d never talked about sex openly with any of his past hookups. It just happened. He had the suspicion that some of the guys he’d been with in the army considered themselves still 100% hetero. It’s not gay if you don’t talk about it. Dmitri had no problem asking for what he wanted, enthusiastically. Troy kind of loved it.
I’m in. Love 2 mock & r u dissing my truck?
Awesome. Brownie points for me with the boss and I get to see you. And I <3 your truck. I get a boner every time I see one on the road now. Awkward.
Idiot
:) :) Pick you up around 6? We can grab dinner?
It’s a date
And it was. A third date, if you counted the camping trip. Troy couldn’t wait to go.
Troy couldn’t wait to get out of there. Twenty-five minutes in and he was ready to cry ‘fire’ in a desperate attempt to end his and everyone else’s suffering. Dmitri seemed to like it though, intently watching the pianist and the four singer/actors who sat on bar stools on the tiny stage in the small, crowded room behind the community coffee shop. He smiled in what Troy assumed were all the right places, clapping at the (blessed) end of each song.
Troy let his mind wander in self-preservation when a shrill soprano line from the stage caught his attention. Did she just say someone loved beavers? Troy squinted at the stage as the singer continued to lament in broad, operatic tones that filled the room, that someone, her brother Troy thought, had indeed loved beavers and had, regrettably, never gotten to see a real one in his entire life. Oh God. What in god’s name did that have to do with a trial over teaching evolution?
He resisted the urge to drop his head into his hands. At least he did until he risked a glance over to Dmitri, only to see him covering his mouth with one hand, shoulders shaking with repressed giggles. Dmitri deliberately did not look at Troy, keeping his eyes locked on the back of the head of the lady in front of him.
The ninety seconds before the host announced a brief intermission were some of the longest of Troy’s life. And he’d been shot at multiple times.
Dmitri practically shoved him out of the line of folding chairs. Dispensing air kisses and excuses, Dmitri had them both out of the venue and into the cool night air in no time flat. Eyes sparkling, he yanked Troy down the block. When he deemed they were far enough away for politeness, he stopped. “
Oh my God,” he exclaimed. “Oh, my God that was bad.” The laughter he’d been holding in spilled out.
“Don’t you feel sorry for her poor brother? He never saw a beaver. Not even once.”
Dmitri snorted and laughed at the same time. Troy had to join in. “That was so bad. So bad.”
“And…the singing! And the facial expressions. I thought I was going to lose it when they started singing about monkeys and fish. But the beaver…”
Troy pretended to contemplate. “I think my favorite part was the implied relationship between the high school teacher and his student. I don’t remember that from the movie.”
Dmitri bent over at the waist, hands on his knees as he struggled to get his breath. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“Thank God. I thought you were enjoying it.” Troy wiped the tears of laughter away from his eyes.
“God no. But I was sitting next to my boss. I had to fake it.”
They walked slowly down the block towards where they had parked Dmitri’s car, hands brushing. As they passed the Starry Night, Troy reached for Dmitri’s hand to stop him and tilted his head at the coffee shop. “Want a brownie?”
“No. But I could use something sweet.” Pulling their joined hands up to his chest, Dmitri manhandled Troy against the same wall they’d ended up against on their first date.
This time, Troy did kiss him. Foot traffic on the sidewalks was almost non-existent, but still, they were in public. Troy reluctantly kept his hands to himself, but the kiss got hot and heavy nonetheless. Dmitri’s tongue flicked against Troy’s mouth, and he bit down lightly on Troy’s bottom lip. His mouth fell open on a sigh. He twined his fingers in Dmitri’s blonde curls and pulled his head back. “Pretty sure I’d get churched for this back home.” Their mouths were still so close together. Troy traced his tongue across Dmitri’s lips, and Dmitri pushed in closer.
The entrance to a dark alley loomed a few feet to their side. Troy contemplated dragging Dmitri down it. Screw public decency.
“Let’s go home,” Dmitri growled. “To my house,” he clarified.
Troy nodded, hand still in Dmitri’s hair. “Excellent plan.”
chapter eighteen
They kissed the whole way up to Dmitri’s room, Dmitri pulling Troy’s clothes off one at a time as he walked backward up the stairs. First, the cheap jacket. Dmitri could tell Troy had felt over-dressed as soon as he took in the room full of people in Colorado casual, but knowing what lay under that too-tight jacket, and seeing the way the white dress shirt stretched across Troy’s muscular chest, made Dmitri want to rip it off him. So he did. He kept his mouth sealed to Troy’s as he pushed it down his arms. It landed in a heap on the step below them.
Dmitri kicked his shoes off, and they thumped down the stairs. Troy’s tie was next, slithering through the collar of his white dress shirt. Dimitri grabbed Troy’s shoulders and dragged him up the next step.
Troy slid his hand under Dmitri’s polo shirt, pushing it up and over Dmitri’s head. A button caught in Dmitri’s hair and he yelped, arms in the air, face half-buried beneath the baby blue fabric. “I hate these damn shirts,” Troy said, laughing, and he carefully unwound the curl from the button.
“Yeah? Well, me, too.” Dmitri watched the shirt flutter to the steps as Troy tossed it over his shoulder. He closed his eyes when Troy ran his hands up his side and around to the front, thumbs flicking across both nipples at the same time. Dmitri groaned. He grabbed Troy’s wrist and yanked him the rest of the way up the stairs.
Troy turned around to look at the small trail of clothes littering the steps. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”
Dmitri looked over his shoulder. “It’s pretty hot. Now let’s see what the rest of your clothes look like on my floor.” He wiggled his eyebrows and hooked his fingers into Troy’s belt.
Troy shook his head. “That is so, so cheesy.”
Dmitri opened his eyes wide and innocent. “So you don’t want your clothes all over my floor?”
“Oh, no I do. I definitely do.”
Dmitri smiled and pulled him down the hall, past the master bedroom, and stopped at the open door to his small room.
Troy plastered himself against Dmitri’s back, kissing up his neck from behind. Dmitri waited for Troy to make some comment on his room, but Troy just pushed him in, spinning him around and backing him up until the back of his legs hit the bed.
“Hey,” Troy said when they stopped. His hands were hooked into the belt loops of Dmitri’s khaki pants. Dmitri kind of loved the way the skin around his brown eyes crinkled when he smiled.
“Hey.” Dmitri bent his head so he could rest his forehead against Troy’s. He closed his eyes. That look on Troy’s face, it was too much. Troy traced his fingers around Dmitri’s waist, sliding them up his back, just feeling the skin. Goosebumps rose up on Dmitri’s arm. He could feel Troy’s breath hot on his lips.
Troy nudged Dmitri’s head up with his forehead and tilted his head so he could seal their mouths together. One hand rested on the back of Dmitri’s head, his thumb caressing the bone behind his ear. It sent shivers down Dmitri’s spine.
Reaching between them, he unhooked Troy’s belt with one hand. Troy smiled against his lips, and he pulled back just far enough to whisper “smooth” before attacking Dmitri’s mouth at a new and even better angle.
Dmitri’s gasped for air as he slid the belt through the loops and dropped it on the floor. Hungry for skin, he yanked the white dress shirt out from the waist of his pants.
Troy broke the kiss, stepping back. He kept his eyes locked on Dmitri’s as he slowly unbuttoned the shirt, exposing the tattoos on his muscled arms. Dmitri wanted to run his fingers through the light dusting of black hair on his chest, but he waited, watching as Troy lifted first one wrist, and then the other, turning the act of unbuttoning his cuffs into one of the most erotic things Dmitri had ever seen.
His mouth went dry, and his heart pounded against his chest. Troy shrugged out of his shirt, letting it fall to the ground. Dmitri watched it fall, and it did look good on his floor.
When he looked back up, Troy met his glance head on. “You okay?”
Dmitri could only nod, all witty remarks gone.
Troy kicked off his shoes, sliding them behind him, then reached for the button Dmitri’s on pants. “Okay?”
Dmitri nodded, lifting his arms a little so Troy could reach the button easier. He almost felt foolish for a second, but Troy smiled fondly, leaning in for a kiss. Dmitri kissed him back as Troy flicked open the button and slid down the zipper. He moaned as Troy reached in and rubbed a hand down the length of his cock.
Dmitri had been expecting something hard and fast; both of them stripping their clothes off and tumbling into the bed, all hands and teeth. This slow unwrapping was killing him. By the time Troy slid Dmitri’s pants down over his hips, Dmitri’s hands trembled with more than just arousal. He was grateful that the light seeping into the room was too dim for Troy to see his face. He couldn’t imagine what his face would give away.
He braced himself on Troy’s shoulder as he stepped out the khakis.
Troy groaned and managed to roll his eyes at Dmitri and grab his ass at the same time. He ground their bodies together, so the hard lines of their cocks rolled and slid against each other. “Oh for fuck’s sake, Tree, just…” Troy lifted up off the bed, shoving and pushing Dmitri, kissing him and biting wherever he could reach.
All Dmitri could do was hold on for the ride. When Troy finally pulled away, panting, he rested his hands on Dmitri’s shoulders, his forehead against Dmitri’s. They knelt precariously on the bed facing each other. “Dmitri,” he whispered, sliding a hand down between them. “You want this, right?”
Dmitri figured the way he shuddered when Troy wrapped his long fingers around his cock and the way he dug his fingers into the skin of Troy’s hips, was answer enough, but Troy wasn’t letting him off the hook. “Dmitri,” he drawled, sliding his hand slowly up and down.
The way they fit when they kissed took Dmitri’s breath away. Even on their knees, he was taller, and Troy had to tilt his head up to reach. What kissing Troy did to Dmitri was more than Troy’s hand on the back of his head, holding him just where he needed; more than Troy’s arm wrapped around Dmitri’s back, steadying them. The slick slide of lips, the taste of them together, the nipping and quiet gasps, was all secondary to the fact that it was Troy doing it. This new amazing person who had just appeared in his life one day.
Troy broke away with a gasp. “Bed. Down. Now.” He pushed Dmitri’s shoulders, and down he went. As Troy dropped over him, catching himself on his hands, Dmitri promised himself they would have a talk about all this manhandling. Later. Maybe. Because by the way Troy was kissing and biting his way down Dmitri’s body like he was covered in chocolate, Dmitri had a feeling they wouldn’t be talking about anything in the near future.
Dmitri just let go, relaxing into it. Usually, he was the one in charge, the toppy bastard Angel had called him. But maybe it had more to do with his lack of faith in his partner’s ability to take care of him and make sure he enjoyed it than any deep-seated need for control. He felt safe with Troy. Whatever they did, he knew he would love it, and he trusted Troy to know what he needed for himself.
His legs trembled and the breath caught in his lungs. He’d only talked to Troy for the first time three days ago. It shouldn’t mean so much.
By the way Troy’s shoulders shuddered under Dmitri’s hands, Troy felt it, too.
Dmitri covered his face with one hand, gently rubbing the other across Troy’s cheeks, stubble, and soft skin.
Troy bent his head back down, and Dmitri stopped thinking.
Dmitri had a pretty steady stream of profanity and taking of the Lord’s name in vain going on as Troy used his miracle of a mouth on him. Troy’s fingers dug into the flesh of Dmitri’s thighs with the perfect amount of pressure. God, he was so close. Fucking finally.
