Strike A Match: An MM Gay Romance

by DJ Monroe

  “Are you able to talk to them?” he asked.

  Lincoln swallowed hard, closed his eyes briefly again and nodded.

  Colton keyed in the number, pressed the little receiver and listened for the phone to ring on the other end. Then he handed his phone to Lincoln.

  “Yes, I want to report stolen credit cards,” Lincoln said, his voice still shaky but the whiskey seemed to be helping.

  Colton sat close by, his heart breaking for the big man sitting on his sofa, still holding his empty wallet in one hand. He looked lost and afraid and seemed to be struggling to just barely hold it together long enough to get through this task.

  Whoever was taking the call had begun asking questions and Lincoln’s answers were sounding more confident with each one. Colton took the glass, went back into the kitchen and poured more of the whiskey. He brought it back. Lincoln gave him a grateful smile. This time, he took it and sipped it slowly.

  After a few more moments on the phone, Lincoln said, “Confirmation number. Just a minute, I don’t have a—”

  Even as he spoke, Colton found a note pad and pen. He held it on his knee ready to write down the number as Lincoln recited it. Once that was complete, Lincoln read it back for confirmation. With a quick thank you, Lincoln ended the call.

  “They can freeze them immediately,” Lincoln said, downing the last of the whiskey. “So all the guy is going to get away with is cash.”

  “How much cash?” Colton asked.

  “I don’t even remember,” Lincoln said.

  “Should we contact the police?” Colton asked.

  “Probably, but I don’t think I can handle any more of this tonight,” Lincoln said. “It’s going to have to wait until morning.”

  “Do you have any information on the man who robbed you?” Colton asked, hesitantly. “I mean could you describe him?”

  “Sandy colored hair. Green eyes. Said his name was David,” Lincoln said. “I memorized his license plate number.”

  “Write it down,” Colton suggested, shoving the little note pad toward him.

  Lincoln nodded.

  “Where did this happen?” Colton asked, watching as Lincoln wrote the number on the note pad under the confirmation number.

  “Paddy’s,” Lincoln answered softly. Then he shook his head.

  Colton looked alarmed. “Why were you down there?”

  He immediately regretted the question and covered his mouth with one hand. There was generally only one reason to go to Paddy’s. Or at least that’s what he had gathered from Richard’s description of the place.

  “I know it’s dangerous but...” Lincoln ended the sentence on a soft sob and Colton’s heart melted.

  “I am so sorry,” Colton said, realizing he’d pushed too hard. “You need some time to process this.”

  Lincoln nodded and then began to shiver. “I’m so cold all of a sudden.”

  “Adrenalin and maybe shock,” Colton said, getting to his feet. He returned with the quilt off his bed and draped it around Lincoln, urging him to curl up on the sofa. “Hot tea will help, too.”

  While Colton waited on the water to heat for their tea, he checked on Lincoln from time to time. His neighbor had slumped over on his side and seemed to burrow deeper into the soft fabric of the quilt. Colton knew how that felt. Whenever he was sick, this quilt made him feel like he was wrapped in his grandmother’s arms. Now, she was helping out a stranger, just like she always had when she was alive.

  “Here’s some herbal tea,” Colton said, returning to the room and placing the cup on the glass table in front of Lincoln.

  Lincoln sat up and reached for the cup with hands that were shaking again, not as badly as before but shaking nonetheless. He took a sip of the hot liquid and relaxed somewhat. “I’ve never been so scared in all of my life,” he confessed.

  “I can only imagine,” Colton said, watching his neighbor closely.

  “I knew going down there and picking up strangers was dangerous,” Lincoln said. “I just didn’t realize how dangerous.”

  “It’s none of my business,” Colton said, remembering his promise not to meddle in other people’s affairs.

  “I just made it your business,” Lincoln said. “Barging in here like this, scared out of my mind. In most situations I can handle myself but I’m no match for a man with a gun.”

  “I understand,” Colton said, shivering.

  “I was in love with Jon. So in love with him, just like all the others. I’ve decided that I’ll never feel that kind of pain again. From now on, it’s one-night stands or friends with benefits or...”

  Colton thought of Richard. Yes, he could see Richard living like this but not Lincoln. He was too kind, too good. “Lincoln, you’re not that kind of guy,” Colton said, his heart breaking all over again.

  “Unfortunately, no,” Lincoln said sadly. “I was trying to be someone I’m not. That never works.”

  “It never does,” Colton agreed.

  “The only alternative is to get my heart broken over and over,” Lincoln said, emptying his cup and snuggling down into the quilt. “I don’t think I can stand that kind of pain again.”

  Colton was quiet, sensing that Lincoln just needed to talk. He turned down the lights, double checked the door to make sure it was locked and settled in. If Lincoln wanted to talk all night, he was there to listen.

  After a while, though, Lincoln’s words slowed and stopped altogether. Colton, half asleep, stood and headed for his bedroom.

  “Colton,” Lincoln called out, panic tinging the edge of his voice.

  “Yes,” Colton said, returning to the sofa. He reached out and touched Lincoln’s shoulder. “I’m right here.”

  “Please, don’t leave me alone.” Lincoln whispered.

  Surprised that the big, quiet confident man he’d just begun to get to know, sounded like a small child, afraid of the dark, Colton returned to his seat.

  “Sorry, I’m being such a baby about this but—”

  “Lincoln, I can only imagine what it might have felt like when you realized that man had a gun and threatened to use it. You owe me no apologies,” Colton said, thinking that the robbery must have scared Lincoln more than he even realized.

  “It’s hard always being the strong one,” Lincoln said.

  “We all need someone to lean on,” Colton said. “Even the strong ones.”

  “I’m still so cold,” Lincoln told him with a little shiver in his voice.

  There was only one solution to this problem. “Come with me,” Colton said, offering to help Lincoln to his feet.

  Taking his hand, Lincoln stood and followed Colton obediently into the bedroom. Colton turned down the blankets and helped Lincoln ease down onto the pillows still wrapped in the quilt. Then he covered him up.

  Going around to the other side of the bed, Colton climbed in and then turned off the lights.

  “Thank you,” Lincoln whimpered, edging closer to Colton as if seeking the warmth from another body.

  “No thanks necessary. Let me be the strong one tonight,” Colton said, turning toward Lincoln who wiggled even closer.

  “You could have turned me away,” Lincoln whispered.

  “No,” Colton said. “No, I couldn’t have done that.” Without a thought, he encircled Lincoln with both arms and felt the big man relax against his body as he did so.

  Colton lay there awake, holding Lincoln close until his breathing became slow and steady. Having Lincoln there in his bed, in his arms, felt somehow right, comfortable and easy. Lincoln murmured something, struggled for a moment as if dreaming about the robbery and then settled in Colton’s embrace again.

  “It’s okay,” Colton whispered, thinking this incident would haunt Lincoln’s dreams for a while. “I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay.”

  Lincoln slipped into a deeper sleep and then, finally, Colton fell asleep as well.

  This night he did not dream of Grant at all.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next mo
rning, Colton awoke with a start. He’d heard something that sounded like it was coming from the kitchen. The alarm on his phone sounded right after that and he sat straight up in bed, reaching for it. Finally, he silenced the annoying rooster crow sound.

  He listened again for the sound that had woke him up. Yes, there it was again. Someone was definitely moving around in his kitchen.

  Had Grant come back?

  He’d had a strange dream that Lincoln had come to him during the night. Something bad had happened. No, that was not a dream. Lincoln had come to him after being robbed and he’d spent the night right here in his bed.

  The aroma of brewing coffee teased his nose and again, he heard someone moving around in the kitchen. He was just ready to get out of bed when Lincoln entered the bedroom wearing a t-shirt and boxers, his hair still wet from the shower.

  So, he was right. It had not been a dream after all.

  “I took the liberty of making coffee. I hope you don’t mind,” he said and then handed Colton a steaming mug.

  “No, not at all,” Colton said, propping a pillow up behind him and taking the cup from Lincoln. He fought hard to ignore the little sizzle of excitement as their fingertips brushed against each other.

  Colton couldn’t remember anyone ever bringing him coffee in the morning before he got out of bed. And seeing Lincoln like that, the well-developed muscles in his thighs and the way the t-shirt strained against his chest caused another part of his body to pay attention. He arranged the blankets so it wasn’t quite so visible.

  “I called in a substitute teacher to cover for me today,” Lincoln explained, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I’ve decided that, no matter how embarrassing this situation is, I’m going to the police.”

  “Why would it be embarrassing?” Colton asked. He took a sip of the coffee and moaned softly as the hot liquid and caffeine hit his system.

  “The reason I picked him up in the first place,” Lincoln said with a shrug.

  “And now you know it’s not a safe thing to do,” Colton said.

  “Found out the hard way,” Lincoln said and then took a deep breath.

  And then Colton asked a question that he’d often wanted to ask Richard. “Don’t you have to have some kind of connection with a sexual partner to enjoy it?”

  “If I was honest with myself, I’d say yes, but I thought I had a connection with Jon. I was wrong.”

  “Please tell me you’re not going to keep going down to Paddy’s just to get laid,” Colton said.

  “Not after what happened last night,” Lincoln said quickly. “It’s just too dangerous - in more ways than one.”

  Lincoln’s statement reminded Colton of what had happened the night before and he voiced a thought that came to him. “If you think you can stop this guy before it escalates and someone gets killed, you kind of owe it to the neighborhood to go to the police.”

  While he talked he found that he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of the handsome man sitting on the edge of his bed. He thought about the little sizzle he’d felt when their fingers touched just now. That had happened when Lincoln touched him once before as well. The day when Colton had opened his mail by mistake.

  “I could call into work and go with you if you want,” Colton offered.

  Lincoln shook his head. “No, you’ve done so much for me already. Last night—well, last night was what I really needed.”

  Colton swallowed hard and forced a smile. He was certainly glad he’d been able to comfort Lincoln through the night but right at that moment, he imagined doing something else entirely. His body was certainly cooperating and more than eager for that to happen right then and there.

  Finally, Lincoln drained his cup, stood up and reached for Colton’s, which was also empty. “You get a shower and I hope you’ll have time for breakfast.”

  Colton opened his mouth to protest but closed it, checked his watch and said, “I’ll make time. I can work late to make up the hours.” Then he simply sat there hiding under the blankets while watching Lincoln’s trim backside move under the thin fabric of the shorts as he left the room.

  While in the shower, he let his imagination take over, pretending that Lincoln was right there with him. He imagined Lincoln kissing him and those big hands sliding all over his body which kept his own hands busy. All it took was the mental image of him exploring Lincoln’s body with his own hands and mouth that sent him spiraling off into ecstasy. He bit his lip to keep quiet and then sagged against the tiled wall while catching his breath.

  Lincoln scooped scrambled eggs onto a plate and added toast just as Colton came into the kitchen. “Perfect timing,” he said with a big smile and handed the warm plate to Colton.

  Colton took the plate and for a brief, thrilling moment, they stood there looking at each other. Colton thought Lincoln was going to kiss him and, God help him, he wanted Lincoln to kiss him. Then, with another easy smile, Lincoln turned back toward the stove and prepared his own plate.

  “Again, I hope this is okay. I just feel like I owe you for last night,” Lincoln said, joining him at the breakfast bar.

  “No. Really...” Colton said, holding up both hands.

  “Yes. Really. I don’t think I could have made it through the night without you. I’ve never been so terrified in my life,” Lincoln said.

  “Okay, but I think we’re even now,” Colton said.

  “And I’ve learned my lesson,” Lincoln said. “Time to change my ways.”

  Colton smiled. “Good.”

  “And, please say you’ll let me take you out for a late dinner tonight,” Lincoln said.

  “Yes, tonight will be perfect,” Colton replied, his thoughts drifting back to what he’d thought about in the shower. “Just perfect.”

  AFTER CLEANING UP BREAKFAST, Lincoln pulled on his jeans and returned to his apartment. He heard Colton’s door open and close as his neighbor left for work.

  Lincoln paced around his apartment angry with himself for being so vulnerable the night before. Waking up in Colton’s bed had been quite a shock at first. But then reality had set in and he simply lay there in the pre-dawn hours soaking up the warmth of the other man’s body. That alone seemed to soothe his troubled thoughts.

  What would it be like to wake up with him every morning, Lincoln wondered as he dressed to go downtown. What would it be like to go to bed with him every night? That thought brought a wicked grin to his face. Lincoln imagined kissing him. He’d wanted to kiss Colton in the kitchen just a little while ago and almost gave in. Would Colton have been receptive? Lincoln had no way of knowing and promised himself that if the situation arose again, he would take that chance.

  Lincoln wasn’t thrilled about going to the police, but he couldn’t let this guy get away with doing this to someone else. Colton was right. Generally, these things escalated and eventually it was going to end badly. He jogged down the stairs and stepped out into the morning sunshine. Nothing like being terrified to make you appreciate being alive. He took a deep breath of late summer air and headed for his car.

  The police station was a local one, a low brick building that blended in with the neighborhood, and only about ten blocks from the apartment building where Lincoln lived. He found a place to park and went inside, coming face to face with an officer sitting at a desk that appeared much too small for him. The rest of the area was essentially a big, open room with several officers working at desks. There was lots of chatter, phones ringing, and the smell of burnt coffee in the air.

  The phone rang and the officer at the front desk answered it. Lincoln stood there shifting nervously from foot to foot until the officer transferred the call.

  “Can I help you?” the officer, whose name tag said Milbourne, asked.

  Lincoln cleared his throat and tried to control his trembling voice. “Yes, sir. I’d like to report a robbery.”

  The officer took a form out of his desk drawer and grabbed a pen. He took Lincoln’s demographic information and then asked. “When did
this happen?”

  “Last night,” Lincoln answered.

  “At your home or—?” the officer asked.

  “No,” he took a deep breath. “At Paddy’s Bar and Grille.”

  The officer’s pen hovered over the paper and then he looked up and said, “Excuse me for just a moment please.”

  Lincoln watched him weave his way through the maze of desks until he stopped and spoke to another officer toward the back of the room.

  Officer Milbourne returned to his little desk looking a little worried and said, “Could I get you to come back and speak with Officer Anders, please?”

  Now a new wave of terror washed over Lincoln as he followed Officer Milbourne back through desk maze. He thought he could just make the report and go home. He didn’t know how he could get in trouble for something. He was the victim here. Yet, for some reason, he felt as if that was a distinct possibility.

  A younger man with a crew cut and military bearing stood at their approach. “Hello, I’m Officer Anders,” he said and shook hands with Lincoln.

  Lincoln nodded.

  “Would you follow me, please?”

  Now Lincoln really wished he had brought Colton with him. He followed the tall police officer into what looked like an interrogation room and was directed to sit down in a plastic chair at a table bolted to the wall. He continued to tell himself that he had done nothing wrong. He was here to report a crime. He was a victim.

  But the nervousness continued to mount, especially when Officer Anders brought another officer into the room and closed the door behind them.

  “This is my partner, Officer Milton,” Anders said by way of introduction.

  “Please, relax,” Officer Milton said. “We just need to ask you a few questions and get a formal statement.”

  Lincoln wasn’t sure he could even speak. He nodded.

  “We’d like to get your permission to record this,” Officer Milton said, placing a small recording device on the table between them.

  “Yes, that would be fine,” Lincoln said.