by A. E. Wasp
Dmitri whimpered, hips thrusting as if Troy hadn’t done exactly that a few hours ago before they had fallen asleep. “God, please, Troy. Please, do it.” A gorgeous pink blush started in Dmitri’s cheeks and cascaded down his chest. “You have the most beautiful mouth.”
Troy rewarded him by bending down and kissing the air out of him until Dmitri was a whimpering mess. Dmitri gasped as Troy pushed up and slid off the bed. Butt-naked, aroused and smirking, Troy walked to the end of the bed, trailing his hand down Dmitri’s body as he did. With one strong tug, he pulled Dmitri’s body sideways down the bed until his butt hung off the edge.
Keeping his eyes locked with Dmitri’s, Troy opened his mouth and slowly leaned forward, flattening his tongue against the base of Dmitri’s dick. The breath shuddered out of Dmitri’s lungs, and Troy didn’t feel him inhale. Troy dragged his mouth up all those inches of Dmitri. “Breathe,” he blew against the tip.
Dmitri sucked in a huge breath and broke. “Screw you. Oh, damn it, Troy. Blow me already. Please. Your mouth, please.” He dropped back down to the bed, hands grasping, reaching out for Troy’s head, shoulders, anything.
“You just had to ask.” Troy leaned in, opened his mouth, and took Dmitri in as deep as he could. Dmitri felt amazing, hot and heavy and silken against his tongue. And alive. Dmitri was alive, and Troy was alive, and together maybe they could be enough.
Dmitri wasn’t thrusting into Troy so much as writhing against the bed, hands clenched in the sheets. Dmitri’s feet slipped off the bed and wrapped around Troy’s waist. Troy rested his hands on the protrusions of Dmitri’s hips, thumbs caressing the grooves, just riding the wave of Dmitri.
Dmitri cursed low and constant. Troy loved it when Dmitri got that way. So controlled out in the world, Troy tried every time they were together to get Dmitri to the point where he would drop his defenses and beg for Troy to make him feel good. Trust him enough to know he’d get Dmitri where he wanted to be.
“Shit. You. God. Ah, ah.”
Troy kept his mouth relaxed, lips sliding over Dmitri, tongue caressing. He could do this for hours, but his own orgasm was building low in his body. He was going to come just from Dmitri’s cock in his mouth and his voice in his ear.
The world fell away until all he knew was the pleasure throbbing in his spine, the liquid slide of it down his cock, and the taste of Dmitri, salty and addicting. He barely registered Dmitri’s muscles bunching as he pulled himself up.
He sat up, legs slipping down to the ground. Troy kept his mouth sealed around Dmitri, sitting back on his heels, arms tight around his waist. Dmitri’s hands tightened in Troy’s short hair, and he thrust hard, slamming into the back of Troy’s throat, once, twice. He yanked Troy’s mouth off of him and looked down, panting, eyes wide. “Troy. Can’t.”
Troy licked the taste of Dmitri off his lips, mesmerized by the look in Dmitri’s eyes. He looked like he couldn’t believe how he felt. His expression must have matched Dmitri’s. They were both so close, but it felt too good to stop. Eyes locked on Dmitri’s, he begged, “Do it. God, Dmitri. Come for me, baby.”
Dmitri’s eyes rolled up, and his muscles tightened under Troy’s hands. He jerked and twitched as he came. Troy kept his mouth on Dmitri until he felt Dmitri slapping weakly at his head and shoulders.
“Oh my God.” Dmitri fell backward on the bed. “Holy crap.”
Troy bit at the insides of Dmitri’s thighs. He reached out with one hand to the nightstand at the side of the bed. Without moving his mouth from Dmitri’s skin, something that seemed impossible anyway, he slicked up his fingers, and taking the way Dmitri had moaned earlier as permission, slid his fingers between Dmitri’s cheeks.
Dmitri whimpered and pulled his feet back up on the end of the bed.
Troy pushed up on his knees to look at Dmitri. “Is this okay, Dmitri? Is it good? You want me to stop?”
Dmitri lifted his head and huffed a small laugh. “Stop and I’ll kill you.”
“Anything for you, baby.” His laugh came out much shakier than he’d intended it to. He was going to last about five seconds at this rate. Grabbing the lube and a condom, his hands shook as he got himself ready. He wanted to slide Dmitri up the bed, wanted to cover him, feel his mouth, feel his heartbeat through his skin, but his hands were shaking so much and the whole night had been too much, so he just stretched out over Dmitri as best as he could. His arms trembled, and Dmitri’s arms slipped under his, pulling him up and flipping them over in one smooth move.
Dmitri straddled Troy, and they rocked together gently to the rhythm of their breathing. The pounding of blood in his ears drowned out the last of the nightmares and Dmitri moved against him until Troy trembled helplessly. “Dmitri,” he whispered.
Dmitri didn’t stop the sweet rolling of his hips as he bent down over Troy’s body, resting his hands on either side of Troy’s head and Troy would have willingly gone through hell for this a thousand times. Dmitri kissed Troy deep and long.
Troy slid his arms around Dmitri’s waist.
Dmitri bit his way to Troy’s neck and licked a stripe up it. “Don’t want to let you go, Troy. You’re mine. Now kiss me like you want me, too.”
Troy’s groan punched out of him, and he bent his knees, braced his feet on the bed, and slammed into Dmitri’s body. One, two thrusts, and he arched off the bed, lifting Dmitri with his hips. Dmitri’s legs tightened around him as he came again but Troy was too busy biting back the words it was way too early to say to notice.
chapter twenty-three
Listening to Dmitri creep around the room trying to get dressed quietly, Troy was tempted to tell him not to bother. He had never gotten back to sleep, spending the last few hours staring at the ceiling, body aching, trying to make sense of the emotions raging through his heart and mind.
He didn’t say anything, though, faking sleep as Dmitri stood by the bed, hand hovering over Troy’s head but never touching.
Sunlight pushed through the curtains and crept into the room. Downstairs, the back door slammed shut, and Moby barked as Dmitri’s car rumbled down the gravel driveway.
The light pressed against Troy’s eyelids, and he threw an arm across his eyes to block it out. The memory of last night’s intimacy echoed in his mind. It couldn’t have meant what it seemed like in the midst of the dark and storm and fear. What had seemed almost like the word he couldn’t bring himself to even think of fully, had to have been pity. What else was Dmitri supposed to have done? What had they done, exactly? Just sex. It was just sex; a blow job, nothing special.
Troy pushed those fake feelings down deep inside himself, to hide with the others he kept locked up. And, like the nightmare itself, the memory faded and dissipated, leaving his limbs heavy and weak. A beam of sunlight cut across his body, pinning him to the bed.
The sleep that had alluded him slipped over him, and he let it drag him down into oblivion. His last conscious thought was a hope that the sunlight would keep the nightmares at bay at least for a little while.
The pressure in his bladder and the rumbling of his stomach woke him well past noon. Groaning, he rolled onto his side and pushed himself up. Every joint in his body ached, and every movement made him feel as if he were wearing a suit of lead.
He dragged himself naked to the bathroom, grimacing at the dried sweat and fluids on his skin. He needed a shower badly, but the only working one was two flights of stairs away. All he wanted was to go back to bed.
Back in the bedroom, he looked out the window at Moby dozing in the shade of a tree in the backyard. He should go down and let her in, give her some attention. The hot July sun washed the sky, stabbing him in the eyes. Dust and haze obscured the foothills, painting them in shades of gray against the white sky.
His body craved the comfort of the bed, but Troy couldn’t bring himself to go back into it. The energy of the night, the amazing and the bad, seemed to still cling , and he was afraid to fall back down into it.
Everywhere he looked, he saw Dmitri.
There was nothing of himself here. He was an intruder in Dmitri’s life.
Gathering his clothes, he got dressed, joints stiff.
Downstairs, he let Moby in, petted her and played a little fetch before making sure she had water in her crate and leaving her for the day.
He didn’t look back as he drove slowly away.
Troy’s own bed held none of the good energy of Dmitri’s. It was cold, the sheets scratchy, the ceiling somehow ominous and too close as he watched the sunlight crawl across it as the day passed. His phone buzzed. Though his pulse sped up at the sound, he willed himself not to look at it, lying still in his bed as if the phone could feel him moving. He’d started the slow slide into that emotionless state he’d spent most of the day in when the phone buzzed with a second text. Something about it felt urgent.
Troy sighed and reached for the phone. What if it was Dmitri? He’d been hoping and fearing to hear from him all day. He’d assumed Dmitri would call him; they usually spoke when Dmitri was at lunch. But one o’clock came and went without a call. Then two o’clock.
Not that Troy was surprised. Dmitri was probably still freaked out from almost getting beaten up in his sleep. He was probably trying to figure out if he should break up with Troy in person or over the phone.
But what if he wasn’t?
Troy checked the phone. Not Troy. Someone unexpected. Mary, his sister.
Hey little brother, just saying hi. Drop us a line, let us know you’re not lost in the mountains.
We miss you. Call your mother.
On impulse, he dialed the phone. After three rings, his brain caught up to his actions, and he stabbed for the end call button.
“Troy!”
Too late. Mary sounded so happy to hear from him, guilt rolled over him, adding to the invisible weight pinning him to the bed.
“Hey, sis.”
“Are you sick?”
That was an excellent question. “I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t feel so good.” Maybe he was getting the flu.
“I wish I could bring you some chicken soup. We could hang out at watch bad movies together.”
He smiled. Ten years older than Troy and nurturing by nature, Mary had mothered him as much as his older brothers had picked on him. Even as a teenager, she’d always had time for him. The hours they spent after school doing homework together and planning dinners were some of Troy’s favorite memories.
“That sounds amazing. I miss you.”
“I miss you, too. You left so soon. And now you never call. I think we heard from you more when you were deployed. At least we got a weekly call.” She kept her voice light, but Troy heard the hurt and worry underneath it. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. Colorado is great. I’m working as a bartender.”
“Oh, that’s perfect for you. Are you making any friends?”
“Yes, mom, the other kids are playing nice.”
“Don’t be a smartass. It’s hard to make friends as a grown up, you know. It can be lonely moving to a new place.”
Yeah, he knew. He hadn’t ever spent so much time alone before he’d moved to Colorado. The silence stretched. He kind of wanted to open up to Mary, but they’d been worrying about him for years, with good reason. He couldn’t put them through any more worry just because he couldn’t deal with a few nightmares. He forced energy into his voice. “No, really, sis. It’s great. The state is beautiful. I have some friends, we went camping over the Fourth of July, played some poker just last night. And school’s starting soon. I’m sure I’ll be swamped then.”
“Oh good. Will you come home before then? Sean misses you.”
Mary’s son by a long-gone high school boyfriend, Sean had to be almost twenty by now. He and Troy had spent a lot of time together. Troy’d liked being the bigger brother for a change, being the one to show someone how to do things. Damn, time flew. “He’s grown up now.”
“Yeah, almost the same age you were when you enlisted.”
Now he definitely heard the worry in her voice.
He forced himself to sit up. “Yeah? Is he thinking about it?”
“Yeah.” Her voice wavered. That was so unlike his normally stoic sister, it hit him right in the gut.
“What are his other options?” He pushed his hand through his hair. It was getting longer, he needed to cut it.
Her sighed whistled in his ear. “I don’t know. Same as yours were, I guess. Working. Community college. His grades are okay, not great.”
His knuckles tightened around the phone. He knew his sister wanted him to tell her one of two things. Either that it would be a great idea if Sean joined the military, or that it would be horrible and she would be justified in doing whatever she could to stop him.
He couldn’t say either of those things. He had no idea what he would say even if Sean were standing in front of him.
“Troy? What do you think?”
“Ah, jeez, Mary. I need to talk to him directly.”
“Would you do that?” He could hear the relief in his voice. “He’ll listen to you. He practically worships you. You’re his favorite uncle by far.”
“He’s a good kid. I miss him.”
“So come home before school starts.”
Troy closed his eyes against the tears forming. All he wanted to do was pack up the truck, drive straight through to West Virginia, and have his mom and Mary hug him, fuss over him, and tell him things would be okay.
But he couldn’t.
“I’ll try.” He looked at the time and groaned. “I have to go to work.”
“Can’t you call in sick?”
“Not on this short notice. Besides, I’m feeling a little better. I just didn’t sleep so good last night.”
“You need sleep.”
“Thanks for the tip, Dr. Phil. How about I put you on speakerphone, and you give me all the good gossip while I get dressed?”
“How long do you have?”
“Counting the drive to the bar? Twenty-five minutes.”
Mary laughed. “Sounds perfect.”
Troy put the phone on speaker and turned the volume up, letting his sister’s voice and her stories of friends and neighbors wash over him as he went through the motions of a normal person getting ready to go to work.
By the time he walked into Vincent’s, he had almost forgotten that he hadn’t heard from Dmitri all day.
Almost.
chapter twenty-four
Dmitri: (8:43 pm) I’m not feeling too well tonight, going to bed early. Tty tomorrow?
Troy: (8:45 pm) k. lunch b4 work?
Dmitri: (8:51 pm) Maybe see how I feel. Night.
Troy: (8:51 pm) Good night Feel better
Dmitri: (8:52 pm) Thx
Angel: (9:17 pm) You okay? Troy said you were sick.
Dmitri: (9:20 pm) Just a cold.
Angel: (9:26 pm) Aw poor baby. You all snuggled in watching TV with Moby?
Dmitri: (9:26 pm) Yeah
Angel: (9:45 pm) Whatcha watching
Dmitri: (9:45 pm) Gilmore Girls
Angel: (9:45 pm) I knew it! What did you do?
Angel: (10:33 pm) You can run but you can’t hide. I’ll see you in the morning.
True to her word, Angel had been sitting on the old recliner staring at him when he woke up on the couch Saturday morning. She’d badgered him until he responded to Troy’s texts. At least she had brought bagels.
Troy: (10:15 am) Feeling better?
Dmitri: (10:16 am) Meh.
Troy (10:21 am) Lunch?
Dmitri: (10:30 am) Sorry. Phone. Pass today. But u free for lunch at my place tomorrow w/mom & dad. Possibly sister?
Troy: (10:30 am) Yeah, of course. What time? What can I bring?
Dmitri: (10:32 am) They’re coming at noon. Can you come at 11, help me get ready?
Troy: (10:32 am) sure. See you then.
Dmitri laid the phone down on the table. “Happy?”
“Ecstatic,” Angel said. “You have to see him. You can’t hide for
ever.”
“Sure I can.”
She didn’t dignify that with an answer, just gave him a look as she walked into the kitchen. He trailed after her, watching as she made bagel sandwiches for her and Jay for the hike they were going on soon.
“This one is going to hurt when it ends,” he confessed.
“Why is it ending? Are you breaking up with him?” She pointed a mustard-covered knife at him accusingly.
“No!” Pinching the messy end of the knife between two fingertips, he gingerly pushed it away from his shirt. “But eventually he’ll get tired of my being no fun and not being able to help him deal with his issues. And what if I have to move to California, huh? What about that?”
“All of those things are within your control. I know it’s hard to believe, but you do actually have some agency in your life.” She shook her head and stabbed violently at the uncut bagel. Dmitri knew that tone. She hated it when, in her eyes, he acted like a victim. “I know it’s hard for a middle-class white dude to get by, but I think if you try really hard…”
Uh-oh. That meant she was really pissed and Dmitri probably was being a bit of an asshole. He opened a cabinet and pulled out the chocolate bars left over from his and Troy’s camping trip. He laid them gently on the counter near her. “I know. You’re right.”
She snorted, not looking at him, but slid the candy bars over to her snack pile.
Dmitri pulled a bagel out of the bag and tore a piece off. “When it ends, I’ll make sure he still loves you and won’t quit Vincent’s or anything.”
She whirled on him again, this time wielding the large bread knife.
Dmitri stepped back, hands up. “Woah.”
“Why are you so sure it’s going to end?” Her eyes blazed, and she took a step forward.
Dmitri looked at her like she had two heads. “Well, all relationships do, right? I mean, what are your options? It ends, or you stay together ‘til death do you part.”
