Safe House

by Charley Descoteaux

  After a nightcap, they retired to the double bed where they’d first slept together. Only Bran couldn’t muster enough arousal to fool around. He seemed mortified, but Kyle wasn’t surprised.

  “If you hadn’t noticed, I’m in no shape to do anything more than cuddle and sleep either.” Kyle pulled the sheet up over them and rested his head on Bran’s muscled chest. “I’m afraid. I can only imagine how you must feel.”

  “I’m pretty pissed off.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. It’s not fair. Not that I think life is fair. I want time with you, and I want to be there for Mom, not ask her to take care of me again like when I was growing up.”

  “You won’t have to. If it—if you need care, I’m right here.”

  Bran tightened his embrace but didn’t answer.

  Sleep was a long time coming, and they marked the hours with soft kisses and gentle touches. No more words. Words weren’t necessary.

  THE NEXT morning Kyle woke with the sun and cooked a light breakfast, letting Bran sleep until it was ready. When they’d finished eating, Kyle suggested Bran hit the shower. “I’ve taken mine, and you should have hot water.”

  “It’s early yet.”

  Kyle checked the time on his phone. “We should get going in about twenty, thirty minutes.”

  Bran cut a sideways glance at Kyle but took his shower. He came out toweling his hair, wearing a red button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows over comfortably worn jeans. The shirt showed off his muscular arms to luscious advantage. Kyle would have liked to take the time to trace those incredible muscle groups, but only asked if Bran was ready to go. Silently they got into the rental car and then sat for a moment.

  When Kyle turned, Bran wore an apologetic smile. “I didn’t even do this yet.” He leaned across the console, and Kyle met him for a sweet, lingering kiss.

  “Good morning.”

  “Good morning. Thank you. For driving. For being here.”

  Kyle drew his hand down the side of Bran’s face and then buried it in his hair. Bran’s lips parted when Kyle gently massaged his scalp. “You’re welcome.” He smiled as bravely as he could, which wasn’t very, and then started the car. They chatted about the weather and other innocuous things for a couple of minutes.

  “You’re going the wrong way, honey.”

  “Honey. I wondered if you’d ever use an endearment. I like it.” Kyle glanced at Bran, grinning. “Honey.”

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “You’ll see. We have plenty of time before your appointment, but you know that.”

  Bran seemed nervous—but he’d been nervous since Kyle had arrived the day before, so he tried not to let that deter him. Twenty-four miles later, Kyle pulled into the Lincoln County Courthouse parking lot. He stopped under a tree on the empty side of the lot and turned off the car. Kyle took a deep, calming breath and turned to Bran.

  “What are we doing here?”

  To say Kyle had second thoughts would have been an understatement. By then, he was probably on twentieth thoughts. “Marry me. Please marry me.”

  “You want us to go get a marriage license?”

  “Yes. And then get married.”

  “Right now?” Bran’s voice had a breathless quality that touched Kyle and gave him the strength to go on.

  “Yes. No matter what happens today or tomorrow or next week, I’ll be there with you through it. I don’t want anything to get in the way of that. If you don’t want to do this, it’s not an ultimatum. We can continue the way we have been. There’s not much I can do, but I can erase any chance that me being in your life will be a complication.”

  “But how? Is that even possible?”

  “Yes. I made an appointment for us, in—” Kyle checked the clock on the dash, which he’d set carefully before leaving Portland. “—thirty minutes. If the answer is yes, we can go in and get the paperwork done and be married by a judge in time to make your appointment. I know it’s a little crazy, and we could be making a mistake, but I don’t want to have to fight to be a part of… well, anything that might come up.”

  Bran leaned back against the seat. If his expression was any indicator, his mind was reeling. Quickly, though, Bran’s face cleared, but he kept staring out the front windshield.

  “If the answer is no, we can head north and—”

  “You made an appointment for us? You gave our names to the county clerk, both of us?”

  “Yes.” Shit. Before Kyle could think of what to say, Bran turned to him. Is he laughing?

  “You do realize I know everyone who works in this building?”

  “Oh… no, I hadn’t thought of that. I was—I’m—” Bran leaned forward, and Kyle’s voice died in his throat.

  “So it’s a good thing the answer is yes.”

  They embraced as well as they could across the console, squeezing each other tightly. The kiss came later and was cut short by Bran talking into it. “Aren’t you late for an appointment to make an honest man of me?”

  “Not late yet. But we should go in.”

  Kyle moved the car to the front of the parking lot, and they walked into the lovely old brick building together. Before they reached the county clerk’s office, they heard what sounded like a large meeting in progress. Kyle worried that something had happened at the courthouse and his plans would be ruined—postponed—not ruined, postponed. The clerk’s office was full of people, and when they reached the door everyone quieted. Slowly, smiles lit up their faces, and the knot of worry in Kyle’s chest unraveled.

  The small crowd offered their congratulations while the clerk brought the paperwork for the marriage license. By the time they finished filling it out and paying the extra fee to waive the waiting period, the judge had arrived. Everyone in the room volunteered to be the official witnesses—five times more than necessary—and in less than an hour, they were married.

  Kyle felt a bit stunned by the crowd but comfortable in a way he couldn’t have anticipated. A few of the people gathered gave them sideways looks, mostly aimed at Bran. More “He’s really gay?” than the “Why is he with that guy?” looks he’d expected.

  Their kiss in the courthouse was chaste, but the one in the car was definitely not. Maybe Kyle shouldn’t have been surprised when his cock woke up during that kiss, but he was. Inappropriate should be my middle name.

  AFTER THE drama of waiting and the impromptu marriage ceremony, the doctor’s appointment seemed anticlimactic. Bran disappeared into the office, and Kyle paced for forty-three minutes until he emerged. Bran shook the doctor’s hand and then took Kyle’s. Kyle resisted the urge to ask how the ultrasound went. Bran’s pale face and shaking hand told him all he needed to know in that moment. He got them out of the clinic and into the car as quickly as he could.

  Kyle drove to the safe house, and on the way it hit him that Bran had retired. He wondered how it would go over if he asked why they were allowed to be there. It didn’t seem possible Bran had overlooked such an important detail. But Kyle didn’t want to go to the camp, so he didn’t ask. He loved his family, but he needed some quiet time with Bran.

  They didn’t have the garage door opener, so he parked in the driveway. Bran hurried around the back of the car and took Kyle’s hand, leading him to the front door as though afraid he was planning to take off. Bran opened the door, and before Kyle knew what was happening, he found himself in Bran’s arms—completely lifted off the ground, the same way he’d been when Bran fished him out of the river. Kyle gaped as Bran stepped sideways into the house. All Kyle could do was blink. He must have looked as bewildered as he felt, because Bran chuckled.

  “If I put you down, will you be okay to stand?”

  Bran crossed the small living room and dropped him onto the couch. A puff of dust rose from the back, but Kyle dismissed it. “What was that?”

  “The whole threshold thing. It’s cliché, so sue me.”

  Kyle frowned up at Bran, his sexy husband, and couldn’t find t
he words. “But that only works if—”

  “It’s our house. Well, so far it’s my house, but I’m pretty sure the ceremony makes it ours by default.” Bran sat beside Kyle on the couch, looking pretty pleased with himself.

  “Yours? You mean you bought this place?”

  “You didn’t think I was going to live in a room at Buchanan House, did you? I mean, I love those guys, but with your dirty talking, I don’t think it would’ve worked out.” Bran leaned back, his arm stretched across the back of the couch, idly playing with Kyle’s hair. “The department needed the money more than a place to stash people. I stole it at auction.”

  “Congratulations. You’re a homeowner.” Kyle looked him over, trying to gauge how he was feeling. He still seemed tense, but less than he had before the appointment. They had discussed it, but Kyle couldn’t remember what happened next. “When will you hear from the doctor?”

  Bran’s smile was only a little bit clouded with worry. He held his arms out and Kyle took the invitation, leaning into a hug. “Last time it took two days.”

  “That’s a long time.” Kyle massaged Bran’s shoulder, then dragged his fingertips over his taut deltoid, across firm trapezius, and down his latissimus dorsi. When Bran moaned, the rest of the Latin Kyle had learned in anatomy faded from his mind. The only thoughts he had room for were of Bran, his warm skin and ripped body. Pressing closer, Kyle felt the evidence that he wasn’t alone.

  BRAN EASED both hands up Kyle’s back, pulling him close and reveling in the feel of his hard body. “You really should see the rest of the house.” His lips found Kyle’s cheek, teeth gently scraping over his smooth jaw and settling on his neck.

  “Yeah. You can show me, or fuck me into the couch and show me later.”

  “Maybe not this couch.” Bran sucked the tender skin at Kyle’s throat until he shivered. “And maybe I’ll invest in a thicker set of drapes first, but that will happen in this room.”

  Bran almost didn’t want to get up, to leave the (old, musty, and soon to be replaced) couch, Kyle’s warm weight against him. But he did want to fuck, so he stood, bringing Kyle with him in one fluid motion.

  “Fuck, that’s hot.” Kyle’s breathless voice intensified Bran’s need.

  “You like being manhandled?”

  Kyle grinned, and Bran couldn’t keep from growling as he guided him toward the hall. Before they’d taken three steps, Kyle’s talented fingers had gone to work on the buttons of Bran’s shirt.

  During the last week, Bran had spent a lot of time at the house, and Kyle’s soft moan when he saw the bed in the master bedroom turned down convinced him that every second had been well spent. They shucked their clothes fast, and Kyle made to crawl onto the bed. As much as Bran loved his ass—soft skin over firm curves, his inviting hole—that’s not how it was going to go down.

  “No. Not like that.”

  Kyle stopped and glanced back over his shoulder. “Like how, then?”

  And he waited for direction. Fuck, yeah.

  Bran knelt on the bed, took Kyle’s shoulders, and guided him onto his back. They both moaned when Bran lowered himself so their chests touched. He gazed into Kyle’s dark eyes and rubbed against him. Their cocks didn’t match up in that position, but Bran had expected that—he had enough friction against Kyle’s stomach to get revved up, but Kyle was left without. Bran allowed most of his weight to rest on Kyle and claimed his mouth in a bruising kiss. Before long, Kyle whimpered, his body straining for contact.

  Kyle wrenched his head to the side, breaking the kiss. Bran moved his mouth along Kyle’s cheek, sucked his earlobe, and bit it gently.

  “Fuck me. I need your cock inside me. Now. Oh, God, please now….”

  Another growl rumbled in Bran’s chest as he sat back on his heels. He took a moment to appreciate the view, Kyle’s sweat-shiny chest heaving with every breath, his long fingers reaching out to trace the veins in Bran’s throbbing dick. Quickly he released Kyle’s legs from beneath him and pushed them up and back until Kyle’s knees practically knocked into his ears. Bran’s hands gripped his firm thighs and pushed—gently, but barely controlling the force of his need behind the motion. Kyle let his legs fall open, panting more loudly and flexing his hips. He opened so far and so easily that a predatory feeling coursed through Bran.

  “Fuck, you’re limber,” is what he said, but his mind screamed, “Mine!”

  “Fuck me. I can’t take all this waiting. I need that fat dick of yours. Give it to me, oh, God, please.” Kyle’s back arched, and he looked even more fuckable with his head thrown back, eyes closed… begging for it with his sexy, dirty mouth.

  Bran was tempted to draw it out, to enjoy the sight of Kyle’s taut muscles and his rigid cock bouncing off his defined abs as he flexed his hips, begging for it with his mouth and his body. But he’d never been into self-denial—it had been thrust upon him. Those days are over.

  When he’d turned down the bed, Bran had stashed condoms and lube under the covers. Before removing his hands from Kyle’s thighs, he pressed them back just enough to get Kyle’s attention. He watched as Kyle hooked his arms around his legs, his gaze homing in on the condom sliding over Bran’s shaft. Kyle’s whole body quaked when Bran pressed a slick thumb against his hole, circling and just breaching it. He cried out when the head of Bran’s cock took its place.

  It was all Bran could do not to bury himself in one hard stroke. He squeezed the base of his cock and worked for enough self-control to ease inside, and he almost made it. Halfway in, Kyle started begging again—a string of barely coherent words urging Bran to go faster, to give it to him harder—and he did. Bran buried his cock in Kyle’s ass, pistoning his hips hard and fast over and over until they were both drenched in sweat, panting and groaning. Until he lost himself in the man below him.

  Husband.

  Losing himself while he fucked his husband. That thought alone nearly sent Bran over the edge.

  He slipped one hand between them and stroked Kyle’s cock. Kyle moaned, long and low. So hot.

  “No, don’t stop. Fuck… fuck me hard, harder.”

  Bran did the best he could to balance on one hand, drill into Kyle, and jack his dick all at once. It didn’t happen immediately, but within a few seconds Kyle’s words trailed into a strangled cry and his back arched, every muscle tense. He squeezed Bran’s dick so hard that even if Bran had wanted to hold back, it would have been impossible. But there would be no holding back, not anymore. Bran howled as his orgasm washed through him, shaking him to his core.

  Unfortunately, it also focused his attention squarely on his own chest. During the past week, Bran had worked out more than usual—in part to pass the time, but also because he had been so tense he could barely sit still. Sleep had been nearly impossible. A vague soreness had settled over his body, and he hadn’t been able to back off enough to let it fade. He would have guessed that thinking of the ultrasound wand, how it traveled over his chest and under his arms, and his frustration at the incomprehensible pictures generated on the screen beside him, would have been like a bucket of cold water dumped on the bed. Almost, but not quite. He was still alive and able to fuck his man, so a little pain and irritation was nothing compared to that.

  Even while Kyle was still shouting and bucking with his own orgasm, Bran knew he would fall asleep when he’d finished. They’d been apart for almost a week, but before that they’d spent almost two—as much time as possible, as often as possible—in Kyle’s bed in Portland. Bran had come to know his body, the tone of his voice, the way it cracked when he spent the last of his energy coming. As they relaxed onto the bed, Bran arranged Kyle’s body so he wouldn’t wake sore or in pain. He tried to hide it, but his knee still hadn’t fully recovered, and his left shoulder gave him trouble if he slept on it wrong.

  Bran pulled the sheet and blanket up over them both and settled Kyle’s cheek on his shoulder. He would have been happier to cuddle him close, spooning the length of Kyle’s slender body closely against his chest
, but that would mean moving him more, maybe enough to disturb his sleep. Bran stroked Kyle’s silky hair and tried to relax beneath him. Kyle wasn’t a light sleeper, but Bran wanted a few minutes to himself. His usual power naps lasted twenty or thirty minutes. Hopefully that would be enough time.

  When Kyle’s breathing deepened into the rhythm that told Bran he could get up without waking him, he reluctantly left the bed. Resisting the temptation to stay and watch him sleep, Bran took care of the condom and went out into the living room. First he called Minnie and told her everything went fine at the doctor’s, and that he was married.

  “You’re…. Congratulations.”

  “I’m sorry you weren’t there. It was a surprise to me too, Mom.”

  “Well, that sounds interesting. When are you two coming up to tell me the story?”

  “How about if we bring an early dinner?”

  “That sounds lovely. See you then.” She ended the call, and Bran was left staring at his phone. She hadn’t sounded too upset, all things considered, but he knew part of the evening would be spent on damage control.

  Bran wasn’t sure who to call next to set his own surprise in motion. He considered Nathan but quickly realized the person he needed to speak to was Paulie.

  “Brandon? Is everything okay?” Paulie sounded worried, and Bran couldn’t help but smile in anticipation of changing that.

  “Yes. Everything is wonderful, thank you. I want to conspire with you to throw a party.”