Loving Edits

by Mickie B. Ashling

  “Not as often as I should,” Paul replied, running his tongue over his upper lip, licking up the salt that had transferred from the goblet. He felt a stirring in his groin as his eyes were riveted to the sight of Tono’s tongue flicking at the salt dotting his own lips, unleashing a mental image of that same tongue running circles around his cock. It had been several days since their encounter, but the memories continued to taunt him.

  “Actually, Mick should avail of the pool,” Paul stated, forcing himself to banish lascivious thoughts, when in actuality, he wanted nothing more than to yank Tono against his chest. He wanted to press his mouth on the soft pillows of flesh, taste the salt, and suck on Tono’s full lower lip, which he was gnawing on nervously. Paul wondered if the Spaniard was feeling this attraction as well.

  “I guess that will depend on my therapist,” Mick said, “but I do like to swim. I wonder how that will work, now that I can’t move my legs.”

  “Have you hired anyone yet?” Paul inquired, tearing his eyes away from Tono.

  “No. Tono is interviewing people,” Mick replied.

  “Would you like me to help?”

  “I have it under control,” Tono said confidently.

  “Okay,” Paul nodded, backing down immediately. He had to bite his tongue from speaking his mind, but he was determined to curtail his need to take charge of the situation. He was more than cognizant of Tono’s role in Mick’s life and had no desire to rock the very fragile boat supporting them in this confusing time. Eventually, he presumed that things would settle into a routine, and the struggle for dominance in this dynamic―between the three of them―would die down, but right now it was at its height. Paul was aware of the sudden tension radiating from the Spaniard. He obviously had issues with Paul’s presence but was far too intelligent to lay down the law and banish him from Mick’s life.

  “We should set up a schedule for our editing,” Paul said, attempting to resume the earlier tone of the conversation. He sipped at his drink, vowing to stay sober tonight. He’d been overindulging since Mick’s return, and he needed to have his wits about him when dealing with Tono.

  “What did you have in mind?” Tono asked.

  “A schedule, for one thing.”

  Mick laughed. “Of course! Tono, didn’t I tell you he was a time whore?”

  “Christ, Mick. Just because you have no concept of the word doesn’t make me a time whore,” Paul spat out, annoyed by the insult. “By the way, there is no such word.”

  “There is now.” Mick smiled.

  “What kind of schedule?” Tono asked. “We have to work around Mick’s therapy and daily needs.”

  “Indeed,” Paul replied. “Are you planning on having full-time help?”

  “Absolutely not! I will take care of him,” Tono said indignantly.

  “That’s fine for now,” Baxter interrupted, surprising the group. He’d just returned with a tray full of appetizers when he overheard the last bit of the conversation. “What about down the road, sir, when Mick can no longer use his hands, or breathe on his own?”

  “That’s enough,” Paul said sharply. “Those are issues that can be dealt with at another time.”

  “No, it’s okay, Baxter,” Mick said. “Tono has agreed to call in reinforcements when we get to that point. For now, it’s still manageable.”

  “Is this in writing, sir?”

  “Baxter!” Paul glared at the man. “Drop it.”

  “With all due respect, Mr. Alcott. These things need to be addressed.”

  “They will be, but not tonight!”

  “Why are you asking so many questions?” Tono said angrily. “This is none of your business.”

  “Baxter is more than my assistant, Tono,” Paul explained. “He’s practically a member of my family and has known Mick far longer than you have. I think his questions are legitimate, except his timing sucks.” Paul frowned.

  “You’re right, sir. My apologies.” Baxter nodded at Tono and turned to leave when Mick put his hand out and stopped him.

  “Don’t go, Baxter. It’s okay, really.”

  “I’m sorry, Mick.” Baxter’s voice sounded full of remorse. “I should have never intruded.”

  “You’ve only stated the obvious,” Mick replied.

  “It’s easy for me to speak my mind since I’m not really involved. I do appreciate the struggle and the decisions you are facing,” Baxter said gently.

  “Thank you for your concern,” Mick said kindly. “You can intrude anytime. We need someone to set us on the straight and narrow, Baxter. I know I have to make painful decisions and I keep putting it off, but I promise that I will address everything in the next few weeks.”

  “All in good time,” Paul interjected.

  “Yes, sir,” Baxter answered, even if the statement was not addressed to him. “Shall I serve dinner?”

  “Yes, please,” Mick said, reassuring Baxter with his smile.

  Chapter 16

  DINNER was a culinary delight consisting of four dishes. The appetizer was tuna carpaccio and shaved fennel garnished with blood orange and bird chilis. This was followed by a small bowl of cool gazpacho. The main course was turbot, kabocha pumpkin risotto and crabmeat, with baby spinach on the side. By the time Baxter plated the chocolate-caramel marquise, a decadent mousse-like cake drizzled with pistachio sauce, everyone was groaning and holding onto their bellies.

  “Jesus Christ,” Mick grunted. “I can’t be eating like this all the time, or I’ll get fat and flabby.”

  “Work it off,” Paul teased. “Sex will knock off a few pounds.”

  “Not when you’re a perpetual bottom,” Mick replied.

  “Shit… I’m sorry, Mick.” Paul’s remorse was easily apparent in the normally unflappable blond. His cheeks were tinged a rosy red that had nothing to do with the wine he held in his hand.

  “Shut up,” Mick flared, cuffing Paul. “Let’s get one thing straight, okay? Don’t be treating me like I’m made of glass, or I’ll roll this fucking wheelchair off the roof. Do you understand?”

  Paul nodded and smirked. “Got it, babe.”

  “Good. And that goes for you too,” Mick turned to Tono. “I’m still the same person I was two weeks ago. Just because my legs don’t move doesn’t mean I’m different. Nothing else has changed, and I expect to be treated in exactly the same way. Remember what Dr. Jordan said: my mind will never turn to mush, just my stupid body. If I catch either one of you being condescending or treating me like I’m fucking brain dead, you’ll have one crazy black Irishman to deal with. Understood?”

  Paul and Tono were surprised by this sudden outburst. Mick’s anger had come on suddenly, but it was a seething presence that couldn’t be ignored. His eyes sparkled as he glared at the two men.

  “Sí.” Tono nodded.

  Paul nodded too. “Okay, Mick. Sorry for being an ass.”

  “It’s okay, sweetheart.” Mick smiled quickly, forcing the anger away. “Now, go ahead and tell me I’m a fat pig for wanting seconds.”

  “You can’t be serious? Where the hell are you putting this food?” Paul looked astounded.

  “There’s always room for chocolate, and this stuff is amazing.”

  “It’s from the Four Seasons, Mick. Baxter only deals with the best.”

  “Thank you very much, Baxter. Now please hand me another piece.”

  Baxter grinned and put another plate in front of Mick. The awkward moment they’d experienced earlier in the evening had passed, and everyone was having a good time, except for this latest outburst. He presumed those would become more frequent while the ground rules were being established. He didn’t envy either one of Mick’s friends right now. It would take patience and a lot of restraint to treat him in a normal fashion as he was requesting. It was early on in the disease and still very manageable. He wondered if the attitude would be the same three years down the road, if Mick lasted that long.

  “Are you interested in a brandy or any other liqueur, sir?” Tono was th
e only unknown in this puzzle, and Baxter approached with caution. He appeared to be nice enough, and he certainly doted on Mick, which was the most important thing.

  “I’ll have a Courvoisier if you have it.”

  “Of course. Mick, would you like the same?” He didn’t bother asking Paul, since he was well aware of his favored brandy.

  “Yes, please.”

  “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

  After Baxter returned and placed a snifter in front of each man, he cleared the table and left them for the evening.

  “Tell me about him,” Tono said, inclining his head in the direction of Baxter’s exit. “Is he really a member of the family? How come he acts like a servant?”

  “It’s complicated,” Paul said. “He started out as our butler/majordomo, but Baxter’s role in our lives has evolved through the years.”

  “In what way?” Tono’s curiosity was piqued.

  “He became my father figure when mine wasn’t around. Baxter has seen me through all my firsts.”

  “And some of mine,” Mick jumped in. “I remember Paul and I trying to roll condoms on the biggest zucchini that Baxter brought in from the vegetable garden. It makes me chuckle to this day.”

  Tono smiled. “He did that for you?”

  “Oh yeah, and he replenished the condom supply on a regular basis.”

  “Is he gay?”

  Paul shrugged. “I received a lot of positive reinforcement from Baxter when I came out. My father had a meltdown and didn’t speak to me for weeks. It was several months before he could even say the word ‘homosexual’ in my presence. Baxter took it all in stride, though, so yeah, maybe he is. I’ve never asked him.”

  “In all these years?” Tono was shocked. “What kind of close relationship is that?”

  “Pretty one-sided, huh?” Paul looked terribly ashamed for never delving into Baxter’s personal life.

  “¡Por Dios, hombre!”

  “Oh, stop being judgmental,” Paul sneered.

  “I’m only saying that if I cared about someone the way you obviously care about Baxter, then I would want to know a little bit more about him.”

  “Point taken,” Paul acknowledged.

  “Let’s go swimming,” Mick announced, always the peacemaker. “I need to work off my caloric intake, and I’m curious to see what I can do in the water.”

  “Now?” Paul asked.

  “Why not? Do we need to be on a schedule for that as well?” Mick’s grin was pure mischief.

  “Fuck off, Henley.”

  “Come on. Somebody help me get my clothes off.”

  Tono stood, walked over to Mick, and pulled off his T-shirt. He lifted him and managed to unzip his pants, pulling them down while Mick helped by encircling Tono’s powerful neck and sort of hanging there as he was stripped. When only his boxers remained, Mick said, “Take them off.”

  “You’re going to swim naked so the entire city can see you?”

  “Unless they’re in an airplane, I doubt that anyone will see me. Come on, Tono. Don’t be a prude.”

  “A prude?” Tono was outraged. “Estás loco.”

  “In my coco. Now, come on, majo,” Mick cajoled. “Strip!”

  Paul watched the entire exchange in amusement, delighted to see Tono bested by Mick. The Jai alai player was always in charge, so it was nice to see him whipped for a change.

  “Yeah, big guy. Show us what you got,” Paul challenged, eager to see Tono completely nude. Up until now it had been bits and pieces of him; taking in the complete package would be a pleasure.

  “You want a show?” Tono’s eyes darkened with lust. “I’ll give you a fucking show.”

  “Really?” Paul licked his lips suggestively.

  “Just do me a favor and don’t let me drown while you two go at it,” Mick commented, still hanging on to Tono.

  “Who said anything about us going at it?” Tono protested. He pulled off Mick’s boxers, cradled him in his arms, and walked over to the pool where he plunked Mick down on the wooden deck with his feet dangling above the water. “You okay, cariño?”

  “Yes, stop worrying.” Mick nodded. “I can sit fine and enjoy my eye candy at the same time.”

  “You are so naughty; I may have to spank you later.”

  “Ohh… we haven’t done that in a while.” Mick reached up and kissed Tono on the mouth. “You know I can feel everything, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I know.” Tono smiled, tapping lightly at Mick’s erection, which bounced in front of him. He pulled off his black shirt and stepped out of his light beige gabardine pants quickly.

  Paul had to bite his lip to prevent a groan from escaping, but that didn’t stop the rush of blood as his cock swelled and pressed stiffly against his pants. He feasted his eyes on the magnificent body on display. What the fuck? This was the second time that Tono had no underwear. “You have issues with undergarments?” he asked nonchalantly.

  Tono smirked. “They make my balls itch.”

  Jesus! I can scratch them for you. “You need to invest in a higher thread count,” Paul commented. He felt like he had a wad of cotton in his mouth, and speaking coherently was becoming nearly impossible, so he peeled off his clothes, never taking his eyes off Tono, who was visibly aroused. “Or you can let me shave you,” Paul said in a throaty whisper.

  Tono hissed at him, shook his head, and turned to dive into the water without any warning. Mick was drenched in the giant splash and began to giggle uproariously. He was a little tipsy from the brandy but delighted to be out of the cramped apartment. Living in this building would do wonders for his state of mind; he could tell that already. He pushed off with both arms and fell into the warm water. He sank to the bottom almost immediately and panicked for a moment when his legs buckled underneath, instead of pushing against the floor of the pool as they would have if things were normal. He used his arms to push his way upward, gasping for a breath when he broke the surface. “Tono, grab me, majo.”

  Tono swam to his side and caught him roughly against his chest. “Cariño, are you okay?”

  Mick coughed up a lungful of water and laughed at the same time. “Wouldn’t that have been something if I’d fucking drowned?”

  “What happened?” Paul said, appearing in front of them, looking panicked.

  “I’m fine, sweetheart,” Mick reassured Paul with a light touch to his cheek. “Had a little scare is all.”

  “Jesus, let’s get him out of the water, Tono.”

  “No, no… will you guys just relax? I forgot that I can’t tread water.”

  “So did we,” Paul said as the realization hit.

  “Come on, cariño, we’ll do this another time,” Tono said seriously, pulling him away from Paul. Mick leaned into his chest and let Tono carry him to the edge of the pool.

  “Night, sweetheart.” He waved, smiling at Paul, who remained in the water watching them go.

  Paul did a few laps to calm down and avoid overreacting to the couple’s swift departure. Just when he thought things were falling into place, something happened to remind him that he was the unwanted third party, the intruder. The controlling part of him rebelled at the whole concept of stepping back and allowing Tono to take charge.

  He hoped it would get better in time as the Spaniard came to realize that he wasn’t going anywhere. He’d meant every word he uttered in Dr. Jordan’s presence. He had no intention of leaving Mick unless he was forcefully removed; an act that would start a battle among them.

  As he stepped cautiously around Tono, he assumed, and rightly so, that Tono gave him a wide berth as well. Mick was the prize in the middle and the one they both loved; one wrong move could ruin the delicate balance, which would surely send Mick to his death, as if they’d pulled the trigger themselves.

  Chapter 17

  TONO sat on the sectional in the living room watching a replay of last year’s World Cup. He was waiting for Samuel, Mick’s therapist, who’d accompanied Mick up to Paul’s to get him settled.
Tono had reassured Mick that he would keep Samuel occupied while he and Paul spent some time going over the initial edits for Mick’s sequel. Mick had finally given in and consented to let Paul read it. He was thrilled when Paul told him― in his publishing voice― that he had another hit on his hands, but it would require some editing. Not surprising, due to the length of time it had taken to put his thoughts on paper. The last year alone had been one constant interruption, so the news that some portions of the manuscript were disjointed wasn’t a big shock. They’d agreed to meet two nights a week, and tonight would be their first attempt.

  Tono could use the private time with Samuel to figure out the logistics of dealing with the new challenges that living with a paraplegic entailed. He had questions that he was reluctant to ask in Mick’s presence, so this opportunity to pick Samuel’s brain was a godsend.

  The move to the new apartment had gone smoothly, all things considered. It had taken a little over a week to get the paperwork and money squared away and an additional ten days to refit the apartment to make it wheelchair friendly. The major renovation was in the master bathroom―holding bars, sitting benches, a lowered sink, a higher commode―items necessary to make Mick’s life easier and more independent. Mick chafed at any sort of assistance in the bathroom, claiming that he could still manage on his own. He had major issues about doing his business with an audience. He only agreed to Tono’s presence in the shower and sharing that space if the visit was for sexual reasons. Mick’s need to maintain the illusion that he was the same man was imperative so he wouldn’t sink back into his depression and resume talks of suicide. Fortunately, there were two full bathrooms in the apartment, allowing both of them the privacy they deserved.

  Other than his legs, most of Mick’s body functioned normally for now, and they’d been very creative in their lovemaking, which was an important part of their relationship. Mick had said repeatedly that he needed to know he was still man enough to keep Tono sexually fulfilled and satisfied. They’d figured out different ways to have sex so Mick didn’t feel inadequate or hampered in any way. The range of motion in his hips was still good, which contributed to his calmer state of mind. So long as his creative and sexual juices still flowed, he could accept what was happening within his body.