Fall Apart

by SE Culpepper

  What happened to boarding schools with evil headmasters? Little hoodlums.

  “I suck at this,” he shouted in frustration.

  “Yes, you do,” Zane agreed, wiping the smile off of his face at Mark’s glare. “But, I love you with my whole heart, so…”

  Mark made a face and pushed to his feet again, wind milling his arms for balance. Zane was latched to his own snowboard, looking like a model with the dusting of snow on his ski hat and his perfect grin. He reached out to steady Mark and had his hand slapped away for the effort.

  Reid came gliding in, opting for skis today rather than the snowboard he’d used perfectly for the last two days.

  “How’s it going, Marky?” he asked, all fresh-faced and rosy. “You made it like fifteen feet that time. I was watching.”

  “Oh, fuck off. So I’m not good at this, big deal!”

  “Give it time,” his brother soothed. “You think I was always this good?” At Mark’s dirty look, he shrugged. “I was always this good…you’re right.”

  “Hey, Sophia,” Mark called out, looking over Reid’s shoulder. Reid jumped, looking frantically behind himself until Mark snickered. “Made you look, jerk.”

  Reid mumbled something under his breath and pointed his skis back toward the base of the run. “I’m out of here. Keep practicing, Mark. At this rate, we’ll see you Christmas morning.”

  Mark undid the latches on his boots and leaped at his brother’s back. Unfortunately, the momentum and Reid’s downhill trajectory were a bad combination and what was meant to be a clean tackle became a stunt ride down the side of a mountain. Reid panicked only for the half a second it took him to balance their body weight over his skis, and then it was all about payback. Mark had never been so close to slamming into a tree at forty miles an hour before and he screamed allllllll the way down the run.

  When Reid tried to stop, they fell off balance again and Mark flew from his brother’s back, landing in a plowed snowdrift and knocking the wind out of himself. He looked back up the direction they’d come, more than a little dazed, and saw Zane boarding his direction with Sean, Kendra, Max and Sophia in his wake.

  When Zane slid to a stop, he threw Mark’s board to the ground, unlatched from his own and ran over.

  “Are you okay?”

  Mark groaned. “Please, get me off of this mountain.”

  “Tell me if anything hurts…you know, more than it already hurt before.”

  “I’m fine,” he said after a minute of wiggling various body parts and trying to breathe normally.

  “Good. Gimme one sec and I’ll help you up.”

  Mark began to protest, but then his jaw dropped open, the words evaporating. Zane had marched toward Reid and pushed him as hard as he could. Sean caught him and when Reid would’ve pushed back to defend himself, their brother held him tight.

  Zane got into his face and said something that made the fight go right out of Reid. As Zane turned away, he added, “You need to grow up.”

  “Hey,” Mark whispered, feeling a little bad for his brother as he struggled out of the snowdrift. “I’m okay—”

  “You think you’re getting off easy, Mark? You tried tackling him. Sometimes the one-upmanship between you guys can fucking wait!”

  Zane picked up their gear and stalked past everyone, leaving them to decide what to do. Reid came forward and grabbed Mark’s arm. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he defended himself.

  Sophia and Max went after Zane and Sean helped Reid with Mark. “Let’s go grab a bite in the lodge and give Zane a minute,” Sean offered. “He’s not used to brothers routinely trying to kill one another.”

  “If I didn’t already know it, I’d say Zane truly loves you, Mark.” Reid looked uncertain, a very unusual expression for him. As much as he enjoyed doling out shit, he didn’t enjoy genuine discord, which was one of the reasons Sophia’s presence was throwing him off.

  “We scared him. That’s all.”

  “You scared Sophia, too,” Sean pointed out.

  Reid glowered. “Shut up. I can’t catch a fucking break with her.”

  “Maybe Zane’s right.”

  “About what?” Reid asked harshly. “Nearly getting Mark killed?”

  “No, about you growing up.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  At ten minutes to five, Alarik was pacing. His blood might have been pudding with the energy his body was expending trying to pump the sludge through his heart. He was lightheaded, his stomach was gurgling, and when he tried to speak, his words were so breathless he sounded like a drag queen with a case of the wheezes.

  “Take deep breaths!” Mandy ordered.

  “No, no, no,” Luke disagreed. “Do pushups or jumping jacks.” When Mandy frowned at her husband, he pointed at Alarik with open hands. “Look at him. He needs to think about something else.”

  “Yeah, like his breathing.”

  Alarik ignored them and continued pacing. The edges of his vision were getting sparkly. A bad sign, he thought.

  At five til, they heard the car pull up in front of the house. Alarik turned to his friends, his eyes wide with panic. “It’s here. I’m supposed to go outside, right? Or, do I stay and wait?”

  “Go,” they said, and then scrambled to the front window so they could see what was happening. Mandy laughed from around the corner and Alarik forced his feet to move.

  Opening the door slowly like he was going to be stepping out into Oz, Alarik peeked at the street. Todd’s car was parked in front of the house and leaning against it with his hands in his pockets and a serious expression that made Alarik dizzier, was his Damon.

  He stepped onto the porch, down the steps, and was halfway across the yard when Damon began walking toward him.

  “You’re my driver?”

  Damon nodded, silently looking Alarik up and down. It made his skin practically sizzle beneath his suit.

  “My letter said that my driver would give me further instructions.”

  “It did, didn’t it?” Damon answered. They were less than an arm’s length from each other when they both stopped, the heat getting stronger between them the closer they stood. Alarik imagined that if he closed his eyes, he would see only the deep reds and oranges of the invisible flames against his eyelids.

  “What would you have me do?” Alarik asked, his fingers itching to touch Damon.

  “Come with me?”

  “Anywhere.”

  The smile that Alarik remembered so well appeared—the one from the night of the wedding reception, their second meeting at the store, and the climbing date—and the sight of it choked him up. He followed Damon to the car and sat obediently in the passenger seat, watching as “his driver” rounded the car and slid in behind the wheel. When Damon pulled his seatbelt across his chest, he settled it gently over his ribcage, noticing Alarik’s attention.

  “Still a little tender,” he murmured, patting his side with his cast.

  They drove in silence, glancing at each other every few moments, Alarik was dying for his camera. He wanted to preserve this night forever. Without his trusted equipment, he watched Damon and tried to make sense of all that he was feeling. It was so bittersweet.

  After a few familiar turns, Alarik realized where they were going. They pulled up in front of Damon’s house and Alarik stared. There were beautiful white lights laced up through the lone tree in the yard, with long strands dangling from the high branches to the ground. It was as though the old tree was raining light. The walkway was lighted on either side with old-fashioned lanterns that flickered softly in the darkness. Two small evergreen trees flanked the door and those were bright with golden light. And there, in the front window was the Christmas tree…

  “Damon,” Alarik whispered, “it’s absolutely beautiful.”

  Damon’s answering look was pleased as he climbed out of the car. He opened Alarik’s door and offered his good hand to help him out. It was the first time they’d touched in months and it wasn’t enough. They walked
hand-in-hand into the house, each step adding to the awe that Alarik was already struggling to contain.

  There were more lanterns inside, flames flickering. The aroma of a delicious meal that had been prepared for him hung in the air. As Damon came to a stop in front of the Christmas tree, he pulled a small remote from his pocket, pushed a button and music filled the room.

  It was the song that played the first time they made love and at the first notes, Alarik knew getting choked up was a distinct possibility that with each second was becoming more a probability. One look at Damon’s face and the probability was an imminent matter of fact.

  “Damon,” he began, his heart full, “I—”

  In one quick step, Damon reached for him, cupping Alarik’s cheek with his good hand and using his casted arm to pull him in close. “Forgive me… Please.”

  “No apologies.”

  “Yes,” Damon said firmly. “All I’ve thought of since you came to see me is how I’ve been making all the wrong choices, focusing on all the wrong things. There are so many other men who, given the same circumstances, would’ve recognized a lot sooner that losing a guy like Todd meant they couldn’t take anyone else for granted. I shut you out. I deliberately tried to hurt you. I wasted so much time that we could’ve been together; I know it. I know that I don’t deserve you.”

  “My darling,” Alarik murmured, his forehead touching Damon’s. His eyes closed as an expected tear slipped down one cheek. “All I ever wanted was to be with you.”

  Damon’s arm tightened at his waist. “I love you, Alarik. I’ll be better and I want it to be in your arms.” His eyes opened and he tilted Alarik’s head back until all they could see was each other. “I want you forever.”

  Alarik looked back and forth between Damon’s earnest blue eyes. “Do you mean it? Truly?”

  “Yes. I don’t want to be without you. I get…I just worry that I’ll let you down.”

  The fear Alarik saw in his lover’s eyes was very real and went very deep. “Damon, listen to me,” Alarik begged. “I’m not asking you to do anything on your own. We can be together. We will make this work. If you want me forever, then, Mr. Wright, you shall have me.”

  The song swelled in the background, violins rising to perfectly match the release Alarik felt course through his soul. When Damon’s lips fell on his, he sighed and melted into it. He touched his tongue to Damon’s, nursed and nibbled at his bottom lip, and ran his fingers through all of that soft, auburn hair. All the while, his lover held him tighter until the confidence grew between them and the fissures created by doubt and grief began to heal. Alarik deepened the kiss, wanting to reveal through his touch all that Damon made him feel—the way that Damon made him stronger.

  Damon tore his mouth away to gasp for breath and Alarik renewed the sensual attack on his neck. Each touch was new, but held the same comfort and love as all the times before.

  “How I’ve missed you,” he moaned in Damon’s ear. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  Damon murmured apologies against Alarik’s skin, lowering him to the floor, and there in the soft lantern light, they began again. There were new scars, inside and out. Alarik ran his fingers gently down Damon’s arm, feeling the raised skin that was forever a reminder of the lost.

  “These scars, did Todd—”

  Damon’s whispered yes confirmed Alarik’s fear. There were no words that he could say to change or remove the hurt, so Alarik held him tenderly, leaving kisses wherever his fingers traveled. He touched the cast over Damon’s wrist, relieved that the pins were gone and that it was healing. Damon gave him the freedom to explore, all the while caressing Alarik’s jaw, throat, and chest.

  They removed each other’s clothing slowly, their eyes riveted on one another, but the slow pace became too much for Damon. He pleaded for more, holding Alarik’s hands to his body—a body that was noticeably thinner from the sad combination of grief and physical harm.

  “Please, make love to me, Alarik.”

  On their knees, their bodies naked and pressed together, Alarik loosed all the emotion he’d held inside since Damon sent him away. Love, anger, confusion and reunion added a layer of passion to their embrace that hadn’t existed before. No more words were exchanged as Alarik eased Damon onto his back and rose over him. He exulted in watching his lover succumb to the pleasure brought by his touch. Alarik let his hands roam, his thumbs brushing over Damon’s nipples and lower until he was holding his hard shaft in both hands, stroking him from base to tip.

  Damon’s hips lifted as he pumped himself in and out of Alarik’s hold. Releasing one hand, Alarik wet his fingers and used them to ready Damon. Sweat beaded across Damon’s stomach and Alarik poised himself on his knees, pressing in, never letting up on those heady strokes over Damon’s cock. His head fell back as he drove his hips ever so slowly forward and back, Damon’s sensual murmurs fueling his fire.

  “Oh, Damon,” he moaned, a delicious shiver coursing through him at all that tight heat surrounding him.

  “More,” Damon gasped back, rocking his hips upward again.

  Alarik increased his pace, knowing he wouldn’t last long if he continued this way. Damon bucked again and again, meeting Alarik’s thrusts even though it was clear that certain movements caused him pain.

  Bracing himself over Damon, one hand by his shoulder and the other gliding over that hot, pounding erection, he directed his thrusts to take the pressure off. As he moved, his cock hit the perfect spot and Damon’s eyes squeezed tightly shut.

  “Alarik, not yet… Don’t make me come yet.” The tremor in his voice had the opposite effect that he intended. Alarik felt his orgasm rising and a pulsing vibration shot through him.

  “I’m on edge, darling. I cant—”

  “Do it,” Damon orderd and as he commanded, Alarik’s body spasmed. He tightened everywhere and clung to Damon as he released inside him.

  A hoarse shout escaped as the beautiful sensation shot from the base of his cock through the rest of his body. In pleasure, he forgot his hold on Damon, but his hand still gripped the other man.

  Damon watched him come, eyes hot with longing. As Alarik rode the final waves of an exquisite orgasm, he saw the pleading in those blue eyes and responded.

  “Are you ready to come for me?” he rasped.

  Damon nodded and moaned when Alarik renewed his attentions. He reached up with his good arm and grasped Alarik behind the neck, never looking away. His body tensed and his white teeth bit into his bottom lip.

  “Alarik,” he cried out and his hips surged upward. He came over his stomach and chest, some of that liquid heat caught in Alarik’s hand. His breaths were fast, but careful, as though he’d learned a new way of breathing as his body healed.

  “Did I hurt you?” Alarik worried.

  Damon shook his head quickly, his hand dropping from Alarik’s neck to swipe the sweat from his eyes. “No, baby… No, I’m okay.”

  Alarik didn’t want to rest his weight on Damon’s chest, so as easily as he could, he pulled out, apologizing as Damon winced at the separation. He stretched out on Damon’s good side and softly kissed his shoulder.

  It took longer than usual for Damon to catch his breath and Alarik looked on with concern, fearing that he’d been too rough, or that he was being lied to about the pain. “Are you certain you’re well?” he asked again.

  Damon’s brows rose and one eye popped open. “Just healing slowly; I don’t move as easily. It’s the deep breaths that bother me.”

  “I pushed too soon. I—”

  “Shhh,” Damon grunted, thumbing Alarik’s bottom lip. “I’m okay.”

  Alarik looked around for a blanket or something to cover them and ended up dragging one from the couch to the floor. He grabbed a couple throw pillows while he was at it and propped one beneath Damon’s head.

  “How’s that?”

  “Better, but let me clean up before you cover us. I don’t really want to explain a cum stain to my mom if she sees it.”

 
He used his underwear to clean his stomach and pecs, and then tossed them away. “There’s no way I could wait to touch you tonight.”

  Alarik tugged the blanket over them, curling into the crook of Damon’s arm and resting his head against the other man’s shoulder. “I wanted you to chase me to my car the other night,” he confessed. “I was furious that you didn’t grab me right then. It might’ve surprised you to see how angry I was.”

  “I wish I had followed you, but I was too freaked out. Worried. I’d convinced myself that you were never going to come around again—that’s how I was able to write that email to you. I saw that the dates on your emails had gotten further apart. It was unrealistic to expect you to want me anymore.”

  “Damon, you fool,” Alarik repeated the words he’d said to himself after he read that farewell email. “Did you even understand what I wrote? That was English, you know.”

  “I couldn’t believe them.”

  “Whyever not?” he asked, the hurt returning. “I’ve never lied to you. I was pouring out my heart and hearing nothing in return from you.”

  Damon’s expression darkened as though thoughts too difficult to form into words had passed over him. His face fell into shadow before Alarik’s eyes, as when the sun is covered by a cloud.

  “Guilt and doubt are brothers; I guess with them being so close to me, I couldn’t see much else.”

  Alarik tipped Damon’s jaw toward him, staring into his eyes. “Tell me you see the truth now. Tell me you’ll never turn me away again. I haven’t stopped wanting you since that wedding tea.”

  Damon watched him hopefully as he spoke. “I feel…unworthy of that. Of you. I mean, think about the awful shit I said to you—” He rubbed his face with his hands as though the action would wipe the memories away. “I can’t forget about it. There are days when it runs on my head in a loop.”

  “That’s over and we deserve to be happy, Damon. I see where that happiness lies for me and being parted from you again would ruin me.”