by Kelly Fox
“Why do you and Ann Richards insist on flicking my forehead?” I ask, making my voice growl. Which, by the way, is difficult when you’re smiling like a jackass.
“I don’t know. Maybe she knows a sex bench when she sees one.”
I don’t think I’ve ever viewed my shower bench as anything other than a tool to get clean; I hadn’t considered that it could just as easily become a tool to get dirty. Especially one with its weight limit, which could easily manage the both of us. Suddenly I saw our future in front of me, and knew that my shower had just been transformed into a wonderland.
“I like where your head is, Maggie. That’s the kind of innovative thinking that’ll get you a raise at the Senate offices of Christopher Morris.”
He rolls his eyes again. “You’re so goddamned cheesy. But I like it.”
“I’m counting on it.”
We laugh and kiss our way through the shower, with me on the bench, and Maggie kneeling on an old gardening pillow. Maggie grabs a washcloth and soaps up my entire body, spending a few minutes running his fingers through the hair on my chest and lightly grazing the scarred skin right above my sternum.
“So, this doesn’t hurt?”
“No. I don’t have any sensation in that one area at all.”
His fingers skate over to my nipples and he pinches and pulls on them while giving me a hard, wet kiss. By the time he pulls back, I am fully hard and grunting from the elicit sensation of it.
“Good to know that these babies are fully functional,” he says, still fiddling with my nipples as he licks and kisses his way up my neck.
He moves one hand down, stroking me up and down, leering at my size. “I can’t wait to get that in me again. It’s been too long. You’ll need to stretch me out again.”
“Always happy to assist any of my constituents.”
Maggie finishes by washing my hair, then standing and completing his shower while I ogle his perfect, golden body. Watching the clean water slide down his lean torso and spectacular ass, I lean forward and pull his soft dick into my mouth. Another new experience.
His skin tastes wonderful, a combination of soap and pheromones, and he quickly fills my mouth until I’m gagging, just a little. I pull back and he smiles down at me. Wordlessly, he grabs my hand and brings it to the base of his dick. I stroke him a few more times, then he gently pushes my head toward his hardness again.
I finally get the hint, working his dick up and down with both my mouth and the tight sleeve of my fist. I go at it until he’s hard and panting, then pull away. Standing, as I sit on the bench, he looks down at me, his hands on his hips. “You’d better not leave me hanging, old man.”
“Never. But maybe we should move this party to the bed.”
He agrees and we make our way over. He once again helps me gently lay back against the pillows.
His mouth on me is always a surprise and he takes me from mostly to fully hard in seconds. Grabbing a bit of the lube, I have to think about handbags and Jesus while he strokes the lubricant up and down my weeping, desperate cock.
“Maggie…” I groan out, unable to form more words.
He laughs then gets up and straddles me backwards, putting his gorgeous ass in my face. “You ever rimmed someone, Senator?”
I groan out my impatience while reaching forward to separate his ass cheeks, then lick at that sensitive bit of skin. When he curses in response, I say against his hole, “Guess I have now.”
After I spend a few minutes licking and sucking at him, he hands back the lube and I work him open as I had before.
“I think I’m ready for you now, Senator.”
“So that’s all I am to you, huh? Christopher in the streets and Senator in the sheets?”
Maggie flips around again and sits up, hovering just above my cock. “You got a problem with that?”
“Nope—” I lose my response to a surprised inhale when he pushes himself down on me.
He leans forward for a kiss as he wrecks my world. “You okay?”
“Never better.”
He rocks up and down, slow and easy as he runs his tight fist over his cock. A drop of pre-cum falls on my belly, and I run my fingers through it, looking up at him. He nods his head and I bring it to my lips. Earthy, bitter, and sweet.
He increases his pace, along with his moans. The experience of watching him fuck himself on my cock is one I hope to repeat again and again. His unselfconscious beauty, the way he’s giving himself over to the emotion of it, the way he looks at me when his eyes track again…
“Maggie–”
He nods his head and intensifies the rocking motion and just as I feel myself let go, he grunts and warm cum lands on my chest. Seeing him unravel on top of me like that, I thrust up and explode. I keep the move measured, but it’s hard. I’m already planning the gym exercises I’m going to do so that I can thrust in this position.
He grabs some tissues by the bedside table and does a quick job of cleaning us up before collapsing next to me and snuggling against my body.
“Mmm, that was hot.”
“It was, despite the fact that you had to work around all of this.” I gesture to my shambles of a body.
Magnus torques one of my nipples.
“Ouch!”
“Christopher, I like all of this. You’re strong and wiry and scarred and brave. I love every bit of it, and I am happy to adapt for an orgasm.”
It’s an unfair time to ask, but the question can’t be put off anymore. “Even if that adaptation means that I’ll never get to hold your hand at the Governor’s Ball, and that when you walk across that stage to get your Master’s Degree, at best I’ll be a face in the crowd?”
“Do you promise to work hard to make sure that lives aren’t lost in vain? Do you promise to help make prevention of the spread of this disease easier, even for people who can’t afford doctor’s visits and condoms? Do you promise to help people out of poverty?”
I nod, more determined about that than anything I’ve ever been in my life. “I’ll do it for you, I’ll do it for my son, I’ll do it for Mario. And I’ll do it for me. If you’re by my side, even if we have to hide in broad daylight, I can and will do anything to make this better.”
“And I’ll do what I can to help you, and support you, and keep your secrets.”
“Even when I have to meet with someone across the aisle? Even when I have to initially make compromises that neither of us will like? Even when sometimes I have to speak in the same language as someone who would never love and accept us?”
Maggie takes a moment to consider my words. He rubs his palm over my scarred chest. “Yes,” he says quietly. After a moment more of silence he continues. “It’s like we’re spies infiltrating enemy territory.”
“I hope they won’t be enemies for long. And yes, Ann agrees with you. She seems to think that we should be covert operators in the war against AIDS, in the fight for equality.”
“Then Senator, I am at your service.”
Tears flood my eyes again and I couldn’t give a damn about the timing of things. I reach out to Maggie—my Maggie—and cup his face with my hands. I refuse to hedge my words, or explain how I’m feeling, by blaming it on hormones.
“I love you.”
He leans in for a deep, slow kiss, nodding as tears fall from his eyes.
“Christopher Morris, I love you, too.”
Chapter Eleven
Magnus
Evie’s luminous, honey-colored eyes have tears in them. “Magnus, that’s a beautiful story. Why hide it? Surely there’s no concern about him coming out now?”
I shrug, reminded of the many arguments he and I have had about this very subject in recent years. “I think it’s a couple of things. I think we’re both just used to it after so many years. We’re pretty private, which is difficult when you’ve lived a very public life, so it feels like we just want to keep this one thing to ourselves. But really, I think there’s some part of him that’s still a little bit afraid.”
“Afraid of what?” she asks with great sincerity and gentleness.
“Afraid that all of the work we’ve done, afraid that all of the sacrifices that we’ve made would somehow crumble around us. Especially with this administration, it feels like everything can be undone in a second, and he…feels the need to throw people off the trail, even to this day. It all feels very tenuous to him.”
“But y’all are out to your friends and family?”
I nod. “Only very close friends, only very close family. His son is out, but is in a private sector job with a husband.”
“So, what happened after y’all got back together? How did his son feel about you?”
“Well, it feels like I moved in almost immediately, and we made it look like I was renting out the apartment over the garage in his backyard. When I graduated from UT, I split my time between the Clarksville house and his property out in Fredericksburg. I started publishing political thrillers under a pen name. They got some traction and, honestly, we just started living our lives. Always careful.”
“And his son?”
“That took a little more time. He’s a few years older than I am and didn’t know about us until I’d already graduated. We had several rough months there, but then he found the man who would be his husband and I think he began to understand what it was we were trying to do. Also, I suspect Ann called him up and explained a few things to him.”
“He knew she was gonna thunk him if he didn’t come around.”
“Something like that.” I smile and miss our old friend.
“Didn’t he retire, like, ten years ago? Why not come out then?”
“Yeah, he did, and we discussed it. It’s funny, I’ve never seen that man afraid of anything, but this one thing is still so difficult. I don’t push him on it, but his mom and son will convince him one of these days.”
“Morris’s mom is still alive? Woah…” she says, admiration in her tone.
“Yep, and she’s a spitfire. You’d like her.”
“Bet I would,” she says, smiling softly. After a sigh, she pats my arm. “This must’ve been so hard for you.”
I nod and hug myself. “There have been times when it really sucked. Like when we went to Ann’s funeral and couldn’t sit next to each other because of the cameras.”
She rubs my shoulder. “I’m sorry, that sounds awful.”
“Her family knows about us, so we were able to go to the wake at their house after and be ourselves. We’ve made sure that every sacrifice has a counterpoint so that we don’t get overwhelmed with things being difficult. He’s always been willing to come out if I were unhappy with the state of things, but our relationship and my friendships have always been strong.”
“And Clarence?”
“Married with children and grandchildren. He’s also my publicist, has been since the beginning.”
I smile, and another wave of nostalgia swamps me. “In 2015, when gay marriage became legal, Ann Richard’s daughter married us in a double ceremony on our property out in Fredericksburg. We had everyone out and it was…very special.”
Evie leans forward and embraces me in a warm, comforting hug. “I’m so glad to hear it. Family is everything.”
Our favorite nurse interrupts the moment and lets me know that, while they’re going to keep Christopher overnight, he should be good to be released in the morning, according to all of his scans.
“Do we know why he was out for so long?”
She bites her lips together, and then laughs, unable to hold it in. “We think he passed out and then fell asleep.”
Evie and I look at each other and crack up. “He is a hard sleeper. Oh, my god. How funny.”
“Would you like to come back and see him?” She asks, looking between me and Evie.
I look to Evie. “Wanna join me?”
She smiles and puts her hand in mine. “I’d love to.”
Christopher
I really wish they’d stop fussing over me. I have agreed to every scan they wanted, I’ve let them take as much blood as they wanted, I’ve let them run every test that they can imagine. I’m trying not to be a crank about it, but a man has his limits.
The door opens again, and I brace myself for yet another poke, prod, or damned inconvenience. Instead, I see the man of my dreams and a flash of purple hair.
“Evie, what’re you doing here? I told Mag-Magnus to send you home.”
“You’re not the only stubborn one around here, you old coot.”
She leans over, gives me a hug, and I have to bite the inside of my lip to prevent tears.
“I suppose this is acceptable. Nothing like the feel of a soft woman against you to heal whatever’s broken.”
She pulls back and looks over at Magnus, shaking her head. “Maggie, how have you put up with him for all of these years?”
He smiles, brilliant as ever, and responds dryly, “I have a high tolerance for both bullshit and vodka.”
My mouth falls open and my eyes bug out as I look back and forth between the two of them.
“Maggie, you told her?” I half-whisper.
Evie rolls her eyes and answers for him. “I got it out of him, old man. You know that’s my secret superpower.”
Maggie looks between her and me and shrugs. Ah well. He’s not the only one who has succumbed to those kind amber eyes.
I pin her with a look. “Now, you know that this can’t get out, right?”
She pushes my shoulder. “Morris, while I think that you’re being absolutely ridiculous hiding this man from the rest of us, I absolutely respect the decision that y’all have made. But I want you to know that if you were to let in the Koenig and Martinez families, that we would hold your secrets, and be able to support you better.”
I feel a little jittery, knowing that she knows my deepest secret. Maggie has told me many times over the years that he would be fine with us coming out, but…I’m afraid. Whenever I think about it, I remember that month without him. I remember the faces of the young men I’ve visited in hospital wards, dying alone because they’ve been rejected by their families. And I think about the fact that the generation alive now views HIV as a chronic health condition, one that can be managed by a pill, and I try not to be jealous of the ease with which these youngsters are able to go through life. Because it all feels so fragile to me and putting on the Morris mask is a reflex I’m barely aware of.
But I look at my friend and know that she’s telling me the truth. I set aside the persona and answer her plainly. “I need some time to think about it, my dear, sweet Evie. But maybe…it wouldn’t be a bad thing. Thank you for keeping my Maggie company. He means the world to me.”
Evie cocks her head, looking at me with curiosity. My beloved leans down and whispers into her ear, loud enough so that I can hear, “That, darling, is the real Christopher Morris. Little different from the guy you know, isn’t he?”
She nods, tears in her eyes. “Nice to meet you, Christopher.”
We shake hands on a laugh and I look up at Maggie.
His eyes still shine at me with pride and love and affection and desire, even after all this time. We’ve had our ups and downs, like any normal couple, but at no time have we been stretched to the breaking point. Because we’ve had to fight for our love, because we know how precious and rare and common it is.
Living a life of secrets isn’t easy and this one finally feels like it’s ready to be free.
Thank you for reading Covert, a Wrecked novella! Want to get even more Wrecked? Check out Sanctuary, Wrecked Book One and subscribe to my newsletter at www.authorkellyfox.com for shorts and information on upcoming books!
Acknowledgments
Susie – Thank you for editing this short story for me!
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Abbie – Thank you for proofing!
About the Author
Hi there! I write contemporary gay romance, which is to say that I curse way too much, drink exactly the right amount of red wine, and sleep far too
little. I’m also lucky enough to live in Central Texas with my wife and three dogs (and usually a foster dog or two), where the astonishing diversity of humans and landscapes and tattoo shops serve as my muse.
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If you enjoy what you’ve read, reviews on Amazon and Goodreads, along with word-of-mouth (er, Facebook) are so appreciated, and are lovely ways to get this book and series noticed.
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For the latest info on new releases and access to free short stories, sign up for my newsletter here: https://www.authorkellyfox.com
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Also by Kelly Fox
Sanctuary, Wrecked Book One
(Nick and Elijah)
What's the first rule of running a gym by and for combat vets? Enjoy the scorching hot scenery, but get your kicks somewhere else.
Never mind that my cousin-slash-business partner ignores that rule every chance he gets. I don't ignore it. Ever. And frankly, between Grindr and living in one of the gayest cities in America, it's not exactly a hardship. Hell, it's so easy, I can do it on one leg.
That is, until a pair of blue eyes swimming with vulnerability shows up at my door, looking for a job. He's too skinny, too mouthy, and way too young for the likes of me, but he pings that protector instinct in me, hard.
I want to fix whatever put that lost look in his eyes, but to manage that, I'd have to do the one thing I said I'd never do. Break my own rules.
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