Past, Present

by A J Lange

  Harry shoved in front again. “I don’t have very far, to faa-aall.”

  Zane chuckled as they sang the chorus in terrible, ear-splitting harmony. In Zane’s experience, karaoke was best done full out, especially if you weren’t a gifted singer. Zane could hold his own; Harry was terrible.

  When they left the stage at the end of the song to cheers and laughter, several guests slapped Zane’s back. Zane remembered the night of Alanna's engagement party, when most of these people had barely acknowledged his presence in the room. He wondered, blearily, if it had been the near loss of Gray himself, an irrefutable example that life could be shockingly bleak and unpredictable, that had brought about their acceptance.

  When he found Gray in the throng of guests, he decided he didn’t care.

  “That was quite a performance, Nolan,” Gray said against his ear.

  “Mmm, your brother is an ass.” Zane smiled, liking the way Gray’s eyes followed his mouth. He leaned a fraction closer. “Let’s go home.”

  ◆◆◆

  Zane didn’t get his night in a fancy hotel; he had had enough hotels for a while. No, he had requested the bedroom in the Kansas City penthouse, where the giant bed waited, where Gray had lain without Zane for too many months.

  The apartment looked the same as the last night Zane had spent there. His eyes fell on the piano tucked into the corner; tomorrow, he thought. Tomorrow, he would have Gray play for him. Gray didn’t let him linger in the living room long, pushing him toward the bedroom, untying Zane’s bowtie and dropping it to the floor, peeling away the tuxedo jacket and letting it fall, stepping over it. Cufflinks went next, a jewel-toned clink against the hardwood. He pulled the tails of the white dress shirt free, sighing when he was able to run his hands along Zane’s flat stomach.

  While Gray undressed him, Zane simply watched, enjoying the attention, loving the hell out of Gray’s expressions. Gray urged him onto the bed and stretched out on top of Zane, grinding his hips down once, twice, until Zane was panting into his mouth, hands gripping those narrow hips, holding him in place. Zane had missed this, God, he’d spent so many months dreaming of this, he didn’t know if he could ever have enough. Gray nuzzled under his chin and Zane stretched his neck, granting him better access, moaning as Gray bit and sucked at the tender skin.

  “God, Gray,” Zane breathed. He pulled Gray’s shirt free, running his palms across the warm skin underneath.

  Gray paused in his exploration long enough to sit up and remove his shirt entirely, then set to work on the front of Zane’s. He spread it open, nails grazing over Zane’s nipples, smiling when Zane shuddered lightly under the touch. He lowered his chest to Zane’s, swallowing his gasp, mouths fusing together.

  Zane was hard, and still buzzed; he didn’t know how much of this he could take, but he thought there was a very real possibility he would cry if Gray stopped what he was doing with that sinful tongue just now on his neck. Zane rutted into his hips, aching, pain and pleasure combining.

  Gray’s lips returned to his cheek. “I want you, Zane. ” He dropped his voice low. “I want to feel you inside me.”

  Zane breathed through his nose, trying to calm his racing heart. Then Gray’s beautiful fingers were unzipping his fly, sliding under the waist of his boxers, stroking, pulling him free to the cool night air of the bedroom, pumping Zane in his fist and kissing him breathless.

  “Gray, GodJesusfuck,” Zane groaned, mumbling nonsense, then he was pulling Gray’s hand away. “Hey,” he gasped. Gray glared down at him, ferocious expression on his face and Zane laughed, winded. “Can we slow down a little? My head is spinning.” He leaned up on an elbow and caught Gray’s mouth again in apology.

  Gray kissed him long and deep, sighing contentedly as they fell flat against the bed again, allowing Zane to ease the frantic pace. He dragged a palm down Zane’s arm, finding and linking their fingers, and nosed at his temple. “Where’s your bag?”

  Zane knew what he was asking for, and he flushed, glad it was too dark for Gray to see his face clearly. “I don’t have any, Gray, I...” he buried his face in Gray’s hair. “We’ve never done that before.”

  Gray stilled on top of him, pulling Zane’s face away so he could see his eyes, frowning in consternation. “We’ve had sex before, Zane. I remember. Last night you—“

  Zane stopped him, covering his mouth with a kiss, the joy that bubbled up inside him foreign, nearly forgotten, and its bright sting stole the breath from his lungs.

  “No, yes,” he huffed. “Yes, we’ve had lots of sex.” He ignored Gray’s snort. “But we’ve never, you know,” Zane trailed off, screwing his eyes shut. “We’ve never done that.”

  “Why not?” Gray asked, baffled, and Zane was both fascinated and amused by it. This was a piece of Gray he hadn’t known from before; that Gray had wanted this, expected it, and Zane hadn’t given it to him. It was scary and exhilarating and new, and Zane wasn’t entirely sure which explanation was the right one to give.

  “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “But I want to. I want to make love to you, Gray.”

  Gray’s eyes softened and he leaned into a languid kiss, sliding his hips along Zanes until they were both aching again, the slip of cock on cock almost too intense. “Then make love to me, Zane. ”

  Zane let Gray take the lead, let him kiss away his nervousness as he finished undressing them, hands gentle and searching as he taught Zane, whispering words of encouragement when Zane hesitated, unsure. He pressed a tube into his hands from the nightstand drawer and Zane blushed, returning to his lips again, needing the reassurance and the deep, abiding love he found there. He touched him, allowed his hands the opportunity to learn Gray in a new way, cataloging which movements brought the softest sighs, which made Gray writhe in pleasure. Gray pushed his fingers deeper, directing the motions, and Zane concentrated as he worked him open, searching for that magical sweet spot he knew lurked deep inside. When he found it, Gray tensed and Zane smiled as a pink flush suffused Gray’s skin.

  “Now, Zane,” he moaned, hips twitching, hands tugging hard at Zane’s hair. Zane bit softly on the inside of Gray’s thigh, laving a kiss there, then slowly eased his fingers out. Gray whimpered in protest, but was still too debauched to do more than watch, pulling at Zane’s arms impatiently as he applied a generous amount of the slippery liquid to himself, before pressing between Gray’s legs.

  Zane hadn’t been inside another body since before he and Gray had met; it made the sensations more exquisite, more intense, hot, hot pressure and delicious friction. Zane and Gray cried out at the same time, causing them both to laugh gently, finding each other’s mouths, sealing together as they rocked into one another.

  Zane found a rhythm, following Gray’s guiding hands, until the heat and motion was too much, too great, and his movements stuttered, faltering, as he lost control, Gray’s name on his lips. Gray pulled him down, wrapping his arms around him, holding him close, kissing his mouth, his jaw, his neck.

  Zane’s face was plastered in Gray’s throat and he smiled wearily against the damp skin. “Fuck, baby. You’re amazing.”

  Gray laughed, dark and sexy, holding him tight. “Yeah? Want to return the favor?” He steered one of Zane’s hands to his hardness, sandwiched and throbbing between them.

  “Gladly,” Zane whispered, but he lowered his head instead of his hand and Gray didn’t have the energy or the breath to complain, mouth falling open wordlessly when Zane’s lips closed around him. Zane wanted to draw it out, extend the night forever, if possible, but Gray was too close.

  Zane lay his cheek against Gray’s stomach, loving the fine tremble of his skin afterward, and the way his hands carded through Zane’s hair, holding him close. Gray gently rearranged them until they lay facing, one hand splayed across Zane’s chest, above his heart, as if to assure himself of the beat beneath the taut skin. Zane kept one palm curled around Gray hip, each possessing, each possessed.

  “Zane,” Gray said quietly.

 
“Yeah Gray?”

  “I’m glad I didn’t lose this memory.”

  Zane pulled him closer, tightening his arms around him, too overwhelmed to speak for a long moment. “Gray?”

  “Mmm,” Gray murmured sleepily, face in Zane’s neck.

  “I love you.”

  Gray’s lips pressed against his skin, a brief touch. “I love you, Zane. ”

  As Zane drifted to sleep, he knew he was smiling.

  ◆◆◆

  In the morning, Zane awoke to the muted strains of a piano piece, melancholy and sweet. He blinked sleepily, smiling when his stomach growled, and climbed from the bed. He padded to Gray’s dresser, digging around for pajama pants, tying the drawstring low around his waist.

  Gray sat at the piano (sadly, not naked, as Zane had hoped), his back flexing in the morning light that filtered through the wall of windows. Zane dropped a kiss to his shoulder.

  “Morning, beautiful.”

  “Good morning, Zane. ” Gray smiled up at him and Zane couldn’t resist bending to meet his mouth. A chord hung a beat too long in the air until Zane straightened and walked to the kitchen.

  Eggs, he decided, standing in front of the open refrigerator, scratching his belly. He scrambled several in a bowl, knowing that was Gray’s preferred style, and added bacon to a second skillet. He smiled. God bless Gray and his indulgence of Zane’s love of fatty pork products.

  They ate sitting at the counter, smiling at each other over the black granite.

  “So, what’s the plan for today?” Zane added too much butter to a triangle of toast and passed it to Gray.

  Gray frowned thoughtfully. “I don’t know. Movie?”

  “Hmmm,” Zane chewed on a slice of bacon. “How about lots of hot sex on the floor in front of the flatscreen?”

  Gray smirked. “While watching a movie.”

  Zane shrugged. “Sure, if that’s what you want. Do I get to pick the movie?” He leered, and Gray laughed.

  “No porn.”

  Zane shook his head sadly. “You’re really a buzz kill sometimes, you know that?”

  They ate in silence for a few more moments until Zane began to fidget in his seat.

  “What’s the matter?” Gray asked.

  “Nothing,” Zane said, frowning before blurting, “I bought you a present.”

  Gray’s eyes widened. “You did? Why?”

  Zane stood and walked to his duffle bag on the sofa, where he had dropped it the day before. He dug around until he pulled a crumpled box from inside. “Do I have to have a reason?”

  Gray accepted the messily wrapped gift, holding it carefully in his hands.

  “It won’t break, Gray. Open it.” Zane sat back on his barstool, pushing his plate aside and leaning his elbows on the table, watching eagerly.

  Gray tore the paper away, and opened the plain white box. Nestled in tissue was a leather bound journal, much like Gray’s previous one. He looked up at Zane, curiously.

  Zane reached for it, hefting it in one hand. “I knew yours was almost full. And see, this one is extra thick, with lots of pages.”

  Gray’s eyes were soft when he took the book and fanned through it. “There’s writing in this.”

  “I know,” Zane said quietly. “I started first.”

  Gray cocked his head questioningly and Zane bit his lip before continuing. “I wrote in the memories you didn’t get back; well, all of them, actually. Everything I remember from the moment you walked into the bar, until the day of the accident.” He fell silent, and Gray reached over to cup his jaw, stroking his cheek with his thumb. Zane released a shuddering sigh and continued. “It’s not entirely in order,” he chuckled, sheepish. “And I didn’t leave out any of the good sex parts, like you did.”

  Gray snorted, flipping through the handwritten pages again, Zane’s memories of them. “Zane,” he whispered. He read over one of the passages, smiling in amusement. Zane had titled each entry; one was called ‘Closet Space’. He leaned forward and caught Zane’s waiting mouth in a tender kiss. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Zane said, voice rough with emotion. “I love you.” He kissed him again, lingering. “Now you take over, continue writing your grocery lists, and the things you need to remember, or whatever.”

  “My grocery lists don’t belong in this,” Gray exclaimed, fiercely clutching the journal to his chest.

  Zane rolled his eyes and pried the book loose. “Yes, they do.”

  He opened it to the inside cover, where he had written an inscription.

  For Gray,

  I’ll take care of the Past for you, if you’ll take care of the Present for me.

  All my love,

  Zane

  ps...Don’t scrimp on the dirty bits. You’re a better writer than me.

  Gray laughed softly, then gently placed the book on the table beside his forgotten breakfast, pulling Zane to his feet and kissing him thoroughly. “I love you, more than you will ever know.”

  Zane smiled against his mouth when Gray’s tongue did that thing he loved so much. “That, that right there,” he murmured, smacking his lips. Gray nibbled on his jaw. “Make sure you describe that, I couldn’t figure out what to call—“

  Gray covered his mouth again, effectively shutting Zane up, intent on making new memories immediately, filled with plenty of ‘dirty bits’, which he totally planned to write down later in blinding, Technicolor detail.

  He would title it, ‘Forever’.

  Epilogue

  Gray sat up in bed. “Zane,” he said frantically.

  Zane tucked an arm around his waist. “Mmm? Bad dream?” He cuddled him close. Zane would deny it until the end of time, but he was something of a cuddler, especially when it came to Gray.

  “The vase. Zane, the vase!”

  Zane scrubbed his face and leaned up on an elbow. “What the hell are you talking about, Gray? Are you awake?” He waved his hand in front of his face and Gray swatted it away.

  “Stop that. Of course I’m awake.”

  “What vase,” Zane tried again, wide awake now. “Wait, do you mean Wilson?”

  “Wilson? What the fuck are you talking about? Are you awake?”

  “Wilson, the vase I stole from the Lawrence dig.”

  “Why did you name a vase?”

  “Because,” Zane pursed his lips. “You know what? Nevermind. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “I resent that, Zane. I –“

  Zane pulled Gray’s face to his, tongue delving deep and sweeping into the recesses of his mouth to shut him up. Which usually worked, but this time Gray shoved him back. “Don’t distract me. I lost Wilson.”

  Zane sighed. His dick was so not on board with this discussion; it wanted to go back to kissing and fondling and— “Wait. You lost the vase? Where? When?”

  “I left it in my rental car in New Mexico when we left for the Grand Canyon.”

  Zane scowled. “You mean Collin has it.”

  Gray smiled apologetically. “Maybe? He probably has it out at the dig site. It wasn’t in the box of my belongings he shipped to me here.” His eyes narrowed. “You know what? He’s probably going to claim it as one of his own finds.”

  Zane groaned, throwing back the blanket. “And you’re just remembering this now? I don’t see how you could have forgotten to grab him that morning. We weren’t even having sex yet.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Gray shot back sarcastically. “Maybe...severe head injury? Or possibly the lingering, you know, amnesia?”

  “Funny.” Zane got out of bed and started pulling on his jeans.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to get our vase.”

  “In New Mexico.”

  “Uh huh. “

  “Locked in an archaeological excavation site.”

  “Won’t be the first time.”

  Gray chewed his lip and then got out of bed. “Okay.”

  ◆◆◆

  Crossing the Oklahoma prairie and the Texas pan
handle was a hell of a lot more fun with Gray along for the ride, Zane discovered.

  Breaking into the dig site and stealing Wilson was, again, shockingly easy.

  “You people need to beef up your security,” Zane whispered.

  “Why are you whispering?” Gray asked, voice booming across the desert night.

  “Shhh.” Zane shushed him, exasperated.

  “What? No one is here, Zane, besides—“ Gray stopped when he found himself with a mouthful of Nolan. He sighed when Zane leaned back. “I love you.”

  Zane snorted. “You mean you want my body naked underneath you right the fuck now.”

  “That too,” Gray smiled and pecked another quick kiss to the corner of Zane’s mouth. “Let’s get out of here.”

  ◆◆◆

  Gray looked sideways at Zane when he took the west exit instead of the east on I-40. “You’re going the wrong way.”

  “No I’m not.”

  “Am I losing time again?” Gray asked drily.

  “Not funny,” Zane frowned at him. “For the thousandth time.”

  Gray smirked. “It’s a little bit funny.”

  “No, it’s really not.”

  Gray unhooked his seatbelt and leaned across the car to place a lingering kiss on Zane’s throat, just below his ear. “Yes, it is.”

  Zane leaned into the mouth pressing heated kisses against his skin. “You, uh,” he cleared his throat. “You need to put your seatbelt back on, mister.”

  “You need to pull over.”

  A hand clutched Zane’s thigh, then started to inch higher.

  “Gray!”

  Gray chuckled, giving Zane’s thigh one more squeeze before returning to his side of the car.

  “So where are we going then?” He yawned and put his feet on the dash.

  “Feet off the dash,” Zane said automatically. Gray rolled his eyes, ignoring him. Zane leaned over and pushed his feet back into the floor, then gestured at the glove box. “Open that.”