by A. E. Wasp
“Of course. Dmitri? Would you like some?”
Dmitri nodded.
They ate in silence until everyone had a glass of wine. Troy downed his in two sips, then held the glass out to his mother for a refill.
“So, are you hurt?” His father looked concerned.
“Not really. Not like my body. It’s PTSD, dad. I just, I have nightmares. And I kind of…get lost sometimes. Forget where I am a little. And some other stuff. Sweetie helps me then. Grounds me.”
Theresa covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, baby.”
Troy reached for her hand. “It’s okay, mom. I’m getting help. It’s already better than it was.”
“What happened? I mean, what caused it?” Paul asked.
Troy shrugged. “Everything. Nothing in particular. Not one specific thing. It just was…” He spread his hand. “Everything.”
He could tell his parents didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t know how to help explain it; they didn’t know how to help him. It was tough for everyone.
“If Troy doesn’t mind, I have a lot of research on it. I could email some of it to you. If that’s okay?” he asked Troy.
“It’s fine with me.”
His mom still seemed concerned. Troy wished he could tell her everything was going to be fine. Maybe he should tell her he was gay, right now. That would at least take her mind of the PTSD. Nah. He wasn’t ready to be kicked out just yet. Not that he thought she would, but, just in case. He’d like to see his sister and brothers first.
Once again, Dmitri came to Troy’s rescue. Troy was so glad he had brought him with him.
“So, Mrs. Johnson. Tell me about Troy’s brothers. Troy hasn’t said much about them. He talks about Mary all the time.”
Teresa launched into stories and updates on his younger brothers and Troy was surprised to find himself caught up in the tales. He’d missed so much over the years.
Dmitri laughed at all the right places at Mr. and Mrs. Johnson’s stories. He could imagine three little Troy’s all getting in trouble in this small town. The wine and the drive and the stress of not being able to comfort Troy caught up with Dmitri all at once, and he struggled to control a yawn. It didn’t work, and he covered his mouth as he yawned wide enough to make his jaw pop.
“Theresa, it’s late. Let the boys go to sleep. We’ll have time tomorrow to talk their ears off.”
Dmitri stood, picking his dish up off the table. “Where should I put this?”
Theresa waved him away. “Just leave it, honey. Mr. Johnson will take care of it. Clearing the table is his job when I cook.”
“That’s how we – my parents – do it, too.” Damn, being in the closet was going to be harder than he thought. So many minefields.
“Mom, would you mind explaining about Sweetie to everyone else? I don’t feel like having the same conversation a million time. And, not to sound like a dick –”
“Detroit!” his mother interrupted.
“Sorry. But I just don’t really want to have to talk about PTSD with everyone tomorrow like it’s a Very Special Episode of some TV show. And I assume there are a hundred people coming over? Besides the Fredericks?”
Theresa looked at the ceiling, head bobbing a little as she counted people. “Only about fifteen, counting us, practically nobody.”
Troy rolled his eyes. “And you’ll be cooking all day?”
“Yes. Your sister is doing a lot of it at her house, too. It’s Christmas Eve, Troy. What am I supposed to do? Not feed people?”
Dmitri could feel the tension radiating off of Troy. Sweetie must have been able to feel it too, as she pressed close to him.
“I can’t wait to meet all of them.” Dmitri gave Theresa a smile as he subtly nudged Troy to get him to walk. “Mr. Johnson, nice meeting you.”
“Good night, boys. Do you need anything? Towels? Blankets?”
“No thank you. Mrs. Johnson got us all set up. Good night.”
Dmitri practically pushed Troy up the stairs.
They took turns in the bathroom getting ready for bed. The hot shower felt great on Dmitri’s muscles after twelve hours on the road; it was worth the disaster his curls would be in the morning from going to bed with wet hair.
Between the wine, the food, and the hot water, Dmitri was halfway to sleep before he plopped down on Troy’s old twin bed. Troy had insisted he take the bed, saying his mother would have a fit if he made a guest sleep on the ground. He yawned again, stretching the ache of driving out of his shoulders. If he was going to be this tired every night, maybe it wouldn’t be too hard to keep his hands off Troy.
He changed his mind when Troy came into the bedroom shirtless, dusky skin warm and pink from the shower, tattoos curling down the muscles of his shoulders and arm. The tattoos at his hips dipped enticingly below the low-hanging waistband of his sweatpants. Parts of Dmitri’s body were starting to feel considerably less sleepy all of a sudden.
“Ready for bed?” Troy asked, a smirk in his voice. He wasn’t unaware of his effect on Dmitri.
“Oh, yeah.”
Dmitri clicked the overhead light off, and a football-shaped nightlight fluttered to life.
“Ooh, sexy.”
“Shut up.”
Dmitri could just make out the outline of Troy’s body as he settled onto the sleeping bag on the floor. Sweetie curled up on the far side of him.
Dmitri rolled onto his stomach, letting his hand drop down to rest on Troy’s chest. “You know, the first time we had sex was in my childhood bed.”
“Are you developing some kind of fetish?”
“Goodnight, boys!” Theresa yelled up the stairs. Dmitri yanked his hand away, and Troy laughed at him.
“Are your parents coming up here?”
“No. Their bedroom is on the main floor, in the back.”
Dmitri let his hand fall down to Troy’s body. He trailed his fingers over the tattoos he could barely see but knew by heart. “So can’t they hear us?” He kept his voice low.
“Not if we keep it down.”
“Huh.” He slipped his fingers under the waistband of Troy’s sweatpants, trailing a fingertip lightly through the soft trail of hair there. “And no one else is in the house right now?”
“Nope.” Troy’s teeth caught the low light as he smiled.
“Imagine that.” Dmitri rolled quietly off the bed, landing lightly over Troy, bracketing his body with his arms and legs. “So,” he purred. “I saw you on the football field, Troy. You were amazing.”
“Yeah?” Troy laughed but it was breathless, and his hands slipped under Dmitri’s shirt, so Dmitri kept going.
“You looked so hot in that uniform. I couldn’t look away.” He dropped down, pressing his body against Troy’s but keeping himself propped up on his elbows. “Ever made out with a boy in your room while your parents were home, Dee-troit?” He punctuated his words with a roll of his hips that had Troy’s eyes rolling up into his head.
“No,” Troy croaked.
Dmitri lowered his head down until their lips were almost touching. Troy’s breath brushed against Dmitri’s mouth, his hands drew hot lines down Dmitri’s back, sliding down to cup his ass. “Do you want to?” he whispered.
Troy answered with a deep groan as he pulled Dmitri’s mouth to his. They made out like the teenagers they were pretending to be. And, just like a nervous teen, Troy grabbed Dmitri’s hand as it strayed down between his legs.
“We cannot have sex in my parent’s house.”
“Why not?” Dmitri pulled against Troy’s hold.
“It’s too loud and too messy.”
“I can be quiet,” Dmitri promised.
Troy just looked at him skeptically. Fine. He had a point. Dmitri did tend to get loud. “I can try,” Dmitri pouted.
“Now that you bring it up –” Troy wriggled his hips to prove how up he was. Dmitri groaned at the bad joke, not Troy’s evident arousal.
“Do you want to do this or not? Because this hot little cheerlead
er was begging for my number,” Troy asked, smiling.
Dmitri pulled back, affronted. “That hussy!”
“Should we put Sweetie in the hall? She’s right there.” Troy gave her an apologetic look.
“That dog is so traumatized; she’s going to need dog therapy to talk about what she’s seen her daddies do. Now blow me. Please.” Dmitri was not above begging. A quality Troy was not above exploiting.
Troy rolled them over, so he hovered over Dmitri. “Hush,” he said, sliding Dmitri’s pants down with one hand.
Dmitri covered his mouth with his hands and gave a silent thank you. When Troy’s licked him, then slid down his length with no preamble, Dmitri bit into the fleshy part of his palm.
Troy seemed to be going for a land-speed record on getting Dmitri off. Faster than he’d thought possible, Dmitri was pounding the floor with his fist and clenching his teeth against the sounds that wanted to come out.
His panting breaths echoing in the otherwise quiet room, Dmitri struggled for air as Troy crawled back up his body. He rolled onto his side, propping his head on his hand and smirking down at Dmitri. “Good?”
Dmitri nodded weakly. He raised a limp arm to pat Troy’s arm with all the strength of a kitten. “Good. Go team.”
Even in the dim bedroom, the look in Troy’s eyes took what little breath Dmitri had away. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve the love and fondness he saw there, but he knew he wanted to keep it forever.
Yeah, brain, he said forever. It was Christmas, and he felt amazing, and Troy was everything, so his insecurities would just have to deal with what his heart wanted this time.
“I love you,” Dmitri said.
“I bet you say that to all the boys,” Troy answered with a small laugh.
“Never said it to anyone else.” Dmitri has never been more sincere in his life.
Troy kissed him, soft and gentle, then pulled away. “I love you, too. Now blow me.”
Dmitri put his hand to his chest. “You’re such a romantic. Gets me right here.”
He rolled onto his side and pushed Troy onto his back. His head lay under the shadow of his kid-sized desk. Dmitri wormed his way down to make Troy feel as good as he could.
The front door slammed, and heavy footsteps came up the steps.
Troy’s stopped Dmitri with a hand on his head. Without taking his mouth off Troy, Dmitri lifted his eyes to Troy’s face.
Davy, Troy mouthed.
Dmitri raised one eyebrow, and keeping his eyes locked on Troy’s as best as he could, took Troy deep into his mouth.
Troy choked off a moan, nails digging deep into Dmitri’s shoulders.
They could both hear Troy’s brother moving around outside, going in and out his room and the bathroom.
Troy’s legs trembled under Dmitri’s hands as Dmitri gave him the world’s quietest and slowest blowjob. Dmitri sped up as Troy’s hips started thrusting ever so minutely into his mouth. Little whines slipped through his clenched teeth, and his leg muscles tightened.
Dmitri did that thing he knew always pushed Troy over the edge, and Troy’s mouth opened on a silent cry, his back arched, and he twisted under Dmitri’s hands.
Dmitri stayed with him, and they were both panting heavily when his body relaxed. Dmitri climbed up over him, feeling the aftershocks shuddering his body. They kissed deeply but quietly until their breathing evened out and Dmitri could feel sleep pushing him down. “Love you,” he whispered.
“Love you.”
Giving Troy one final kiss, Dmitri crawled back into the bed and under the covers, falling asleep almost instantly.
chapter five - blue christmas
Looking his family in the eye was a little awkward the next day.
They pulled into the driveway after trip number five to the grocery store to get one last ingredient his mother had forgotten about or ran out of or just decided she needed this very minute. Judging from the crowds at the store, she wasn’t the only cook with this issue.
Of course, it took longer than it should have to shop because it seemed everyone had to greet Troy and welcome him back. Some people hadn’t known he was back from Afghanistan at all; he’d been and gone so quickly. After the fourth recitation of the Abridged History of Troy, he wished he had a card printed up. His parents must be falling down on their jobs. Usually, everyone in town, it seemed, knew all the details of his life.
He assured several mutual friends he would be at the Catholic Church for mass this year.
Dmitri hung back, good buddy distance away, as one person after another greeted Troy.
“So good to see you, man,” Leroy, an old friend from high school said in front of the frozen vegetable case. The bag of spinach he held smacked against Troy’s back with each manly back thump. “We really need to catch up. Can you come over for dinner next week? Suzanne would love to see you.”
“Oh, I can’t. I have to get back to Colorado. Work, you know.”
Leroy nodded. “Yeah. I know. But promise you’ll come back for longer next time. Okay? We have to hang out.”
“I promise.”
“Are you on Facebook?”
“Yeah. Kind of.”
“Okay, look me up. At least I can make you look at pictures of my kids.” Leroy grabbed his arm again. “So good to see you, man. Don’t be a stranger.”
“I won’t be.”
Dmitri waited until Leroy was out of earshot. “Do you know everybody in town?”
“I was born and raised here, the youngest of four. It’s not a big town.”
Dmitri trailed behind Troy as they headed to the checkout. “It must be really lonely for you in Red Deer.”
Troy stopped short, and Dmitri bumped into him. Was it? He should be lonely, he guessed. He’d been surrounded by people his whole life, and then in the army, no one was ever alone. Ever.
“Troy?”
He turned to look at Dmitri, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not. Not lonely at all. I love it. I love just hanging out with you and with our weird little group of friends. I love the mountains and the rivers. I love it all.”
And I love you; he wanted to say. He should be able to say it, say it out loud. Again, he was struck by how unfair it was. If Dmitri had been a girl, and some nosey neighbor heard Troy say I love you to her, there would be oohs and awws and how sweet. If he said it here, now, he was afraid all he would get was a punch in the face. Or, remembering Leo, worse.
“Good.” Dmitri’s smiled let Troy know he’d heard the unsaid words. “Now let’s get home and give your mother this food. Her cooking smells amazing, and I want to enable it any way I can. I’m not going to last until dinner.”
His sister’s car sat in the driveway. A mint green Volkswagen Beetle, she’d saved up for it for two years and loved that little car to death. Even getting pregnant in her senior year hadn’t diminished her drive to own that car. She’d just worked harder than before, saved more money, and bought a car seat in the back of it. It was almost twenty years old now but still looked great. Just like she did.
Troy threw his truck in park and hopped out while the engine was still vibrating, leaving the groceries for Dmitri to grab.
She met him halfway to the door, running outside without a coat despite the cold weather.
“Troy!” she cried, slamming into him with a full-body hug. “I missed you, little bro.
“Big sis, I have missed you!” He swung her around like she had done to him when he had been tiny and she’d taken care of him.
He set her down, and arm around her shoulders, as Dmitri came up to them. “Sis, this is Dmitri. Dmitri, this is my big sister, Mary.”
Dmitri held out his hand, and she shook it.
“So nice to meet you finally. Troy talks about you all the time,” Mary said.
“Same with you. You look just like him,” Dmitri marveled.
Troy had heard that before. Mary shared Troy’s wavy black hair, bright blue eyes, and thick eyebrows. Ten years younger than his s
ister, Troy had only been six when Mary had given birth to Sean. People sometimes assumed Mary was Troy’s mother, too. It amused her then. Time had erased the years, though, and now she looked barely older than he did, despite being, as she said, on the downhill slide to forty.
Troy pulled them both in for a hug, so happy that the two people he loved most in the world were in the same place. They stayed like that for a second until Mary wiggled free. “I’m freezing. Come inside and say hi to Sean. He’s dying to meet Dmitri.”
“Me?”
Mary shrugged and grabbed a bag of groceries from his hand. “I may have mentioned you once or twice. Told him a Dmitri story Troy told me.”
“There are Dmitri stories?” He looked at Troy.
“Just telling my sister about life in exotic, far-away Colorado.”
Dmitri grabbed his shirt, holding him back so Mary could get a few steps in front of him. “Does she know? Did you tell her?”
Troy heard the happiness in his voice, and he wished with all his heart he could say yes. Dmitri’s family had welcomed him with open arms. They could care less that Dmitri was gay. In fact, no one in Red Deer that he knew cared. Most of his friends were less than straight. Sure, there had to be some homophobes in town, but he’d been luckily enough not to have any personal run-ins.
“No,” he whispers. “I didn’t tell her right out. But she does ask about you all the time. I think she suspects.”
“Maybe she’s a good one to start with then.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.” They walk towards the door. “I’ll try to get her alone before church tonight. If I can pry her from the kitchen.”
Inside, the house was sweltering from the heat of the kitchen. Moisture dripped down the inside of the windows. The living room furniture had been pushed aside to make space for two long tables that overflowed from the dining room. Mismatched china made up of pieces from Troy’s mother and grandmother’s services, augmented by pieces from estate sales and birthday presents, sat on top of antique lace tablecloths.
A tiny white-haired woman wearing a white apron with a drunken Santa on it came out of the kitchen.
“Nonnie!” Troy ran across the room to hug her. Troy’s grandmother Jean still weighed what she had at sixteen and was even shorter than her daughter. He lifted her up off the ground, and she beat at his shoulder.
