by J. S. Finley
Lane chuckled. “She’s a good person. I like what she’s doing to help veterans. It’s hard—you know. We all deal with things.”
Mike nodded and was about to say something when a group of noisy teens ran past. He started talking after they were gone. “I still don’t want the guys knowing yet.”
“We can tell them when you’re ready.”
He took in the city as they walked to the park. There were a lot of people. It was a lot like Boston, but different in how it felt. Sure, people were people, but the pulse of New York City was faster. Cars clogged the streets which were straight instead of winding and twisty. In Boston, he’d spent the first year getting lost. After a few days, he already had a sense of New York because, from his vantage point, he could see downtown as they crossed the street to enter Central Park.
When they stepped into the park and made it past the people selling time on a bike or a horse-drawn carriage or riding in a bike-pulled carriage, he breathed a sigh of relief. After meeting with Sharron, the clamp on his heart had lessened. The words spilled out easily.
“When Benjamin died, it freaked me out. I’ve worked hard to hold it together, but I’m afraid.” Mike hadn’t wanted to reveal how disturbed he’d been by Benjamin’s death. Of course, they’d all been affected, but he’d been the one there. He’d seen it all.
“What are you afraid of?”
“That everyone will see how weak I am. They’ll know I’m not strong. They’ll figure out I’m barely holding it together.”
“I think you’re strong.”
“Thank you. I don’t feel strong.” He took Lane’s hand as they passed under a street. The tunnel was quiet, and no one else was around. He pulled Lane into a hug and just held on. “You make me stronger.” The whispered words echoed through the tunnel.
Maybe with Lane in his life, he could get over this. For so long, he’d been pretending. His life was built on creating a false sense of security. Sure the people he protected were safe when he was backstage with them and created a bubble around them, preventing idiots from getting too close, but it wasn’t real. They weren’t really safe because they would walk out of the concert hall, get in the limo and eventually leave his protection. There had been bomb threats, violence, and protests against the people he’d guarded, and he knew how thin that bubble of protection had been. He pretended that he had it all together. The women he’d slept with meant nothing because, if he allowed them to get close, they’d see the thin cracks in his life and figure out he wasn’t whole; instead, he was just a fractured husk of a man who was about ready to break.
Lane held him close, kissing his neck. “You make me stronger.”
Though the city was out there, here in this dark tunnel, he felt like they were alone. He sighed. Being with Lane was the best thing he’d ever had.
“I want to move in. I need to do this event this weekend, then I’ll go back and pack up some stuff. I’ll get a truck and move my things to a storage unit or whatever.”
“I have three days off in a row. I can help you.”
He leaned back and looked Lane in the eyes. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“No. I can take the train up when I get off work.”
He shook his head and stepped back. “You’re exhausted when you get off work. I’ll book a flight for you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“You’re helping me. I’ll do it. That way you can get some sleep before you head to the airport.”
Lane nodded then gave him a killer smile. “Sounds good. Come on. Let’s walk.”
They meandered through the park, ending up on the east side where they found a place to get some food. He liked the idea of moving in with Lane. It intrigued and made him horny all at once. Though he’d lived with Lane while they were in the military, he’d have to learn his friend all over again. He stole a glance and his heart stuttered. Being with Lane all the time was going to be amazing.
Lane grabbed some napkins and Mike’s heart softened. Lane wasn’t just some random person he was settling for. The man had been with him through the worst and the best times in his life. There was no doubt he could be with Lane for a long time. Maybe the rest of his life.
What if he did commit to Lane forever? It would mean no more women. No more random fucks. No picking up girls, banging them after the concerts. But he would have Lane. There was no question in his mind, he wanted Lane over some random woman he didn’t care about.
“Hey, do you need any salt or pepper, any sauce?” Lane set his cup down then dropped some napkins in the center of the table.
“I’m good. Sit down.”
“Sure, what’s up?” Lane took a sip from his cup and lifted his brows before picking up his fork and pushing his food around before taking a bite.
“Are you asking me to move in because you feel sorry for me?”
Lane stared at him for a moment before putting his fork down and reaching across the table. Mike took his hand and held on. He felt like Lane was an anchor in this crazy world.
“I know this is weird. We just got together and it’s not how relationships usually work. But we’ve been friends for a long time. I want you in my life. I can’t explain it.”
He nodded, unable to take his eyes off Lane. “We’re good together.”
“We are.”
Lane’s words worked though him. He felt like his life was finally coming together. He and Lane were moving in. If he didn’t believe it, how would anyone else? Lane squeezed his fingers before picking up his fork and digging in. They ate their food, chatting about New York, Lane’s job, the good food in the city, then headed back to the park. He checked his emails and found out he needed to make a few calls.
He shook his head and groaned. “This event is almost too much.”
“Why?”
“The artist, she’s being difficult. She wants everything to be just so, and she keeps changing where she wants to stay. We have a route for her car, minimizing her time on the road. When she changes hotels, it messes up our flow. I have to make sure the guys know everything so we can plan for all contingencies.”
Lane slowed and narrowed his eyes. “Do you like what you do?”
“I do, for the most part. I’m good with this stuff. I cut back last year and stopped doing shows, which made me less money. I’ve started working with top artists, but with the big stars comes difficulty like finding orange, only orange, jelly beans. I assign those tasks to other people, but still, the requests we get are ridiculous sometimes. Some of these people are difficult to work with. There is this one guy, he’s a total douche. We always have problems with him, and I’ve decided I can’t do security for him. He likes my company though, so he gets a twenty thousand premium tacked on top of his fee.”
Lane’s eyes grew wide. “Wow, that’s a lot.”
“The money is good, but he’s not really worth the trouble. Last time I did security for him in DC, he asked for so many last-minute changes we ate through the twenty thousand.”
Lane shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Wow, sounds terrible.”
“It’s all good. I do like it, but it’s going to get old fast.” His job had turned from exciting to tedious. Sure, security for the stars sounded like a primo gig, but at the end of the day, they were just jerks who needed minders. Well, not all of them, but the number of singers who were like this woman was huge.
He and Lane had walked down a winding path that dropped them into a hidden meadow. He paused and tugged Lane into the circle of his arms. They didn’t kiss; instead, they just held each other as the wind rustled the leaves on trees above.
Lane kissed his neck then stepped back. “So I kind of need to get back on my night schedule. Sleeping last night was good. Do you think we could go back, take a nap now, then go out to a club? One of the guys I work with recommended a bar that’s not too far from my apartment. We could dance until three in the morning then go back to sleep.”
“Sure, sounds good.” With Lane, going to sleep
meant having a good time between the sheets. He liked that aspect of life with Lane, but then there was also the emotional connection. Sure, excitement sizzled between them, but his relationship with Lane was bigger than just sex. He wanted more from this man than just a few fucks, and he really thought they could get there, to some relationship nirvana. Maybe he was fooling himself, but after going to see Sharron, he had hope.
7
They arrived at the club close to eleven. Mike seemed a little reserved at first as he looked around taking in the hot guys. He guessed he was too. It was a feast for his eyes, but really all he wanted was the man holding his hand.
“Let’s get a beer,” Lane suggested.
Mike nodded and headed to the bar, leaning over so the shirtless guy serving drinks could hear.
“Hey, sexy, what can I get you?” the bartender asked.
“Two beers. Longnecks. Do you have Sam Adams?”
“Sure do.” The man winked before turning to grab the beers.
Lane took the bottle when Mike handed it over. He guided them to a quiet corner where they loosened up as the music pumped hard. His hips were swaying and Mike pulled him close so they were rocking together as they drank.
They were both almost finished with their beers, and he grabbed the bottle from Mike’s hand, depositing it on a table behind them before dragging him out to the floor.
Lights flashed, colors splashed on them as bodies swayed around them. People moving in unison, driving his lust higher. Someone tugged at Mike’s shirt, lifting it up to his underarms. Lane grabbed the front of Mike’s shirt and tugged up even more.
It took him leaning in and licking Mike’s neck for him to lift his arms. Lane took the shirt and pulled it through his belt to make sure they didn’t lose it.
Mike was hot, and the guys around them appreciated his looks. After a few minutes, Mike seemed to lose his hesitation and lifted his arms, swaying with the beat as guys caressed his chest and shoulders. Mike’s eyes were dark with lust. Lane appreciated the view and the atmosphere. People crushed in close, touching and grabbing, but Mike was plastered against him, showing the crowd who he wanted.
Lane felt like he was on top of the world. Guys looked at him like he’d won some award. He liked the attention.
Mike had his arms wrapped tight, his eyes on Lane only. They danced until sweat covered their bodies, running down Mike’s chest in little rivulets. They took a break and got some water. Two guys approached, their gazes glassy.
“Hey, would you two like to come back to our place? We could have some fun.” One of the guys reached out and touched Lane’s arm.
Mike shook his head. “Thanks, but no. This guy is the only one for me.”
“Well, you’re both fucking hot. If you two ever decide to, you know, do something with another couple, we’re open. Hell, we’d pay just to watch you two fuck.”
Lane’s cheeks were hot as he turned to stare at Mike. “It’s a great offer.” Lane turned back to the two guys and shook his head. “But we’re exclusive. I won’t want or need anyone else.”
“It’s a shame.” One of the guys said before turning and walking away.
Mike leaned in and nibbled on his earlobe. “You’re so fucking hot everyone wants us.”
“No, you’re the hot one.”
“Oh no, it’s you. You’re the incredibly hot one who makes all the other guys want us. The way they are looking at us. My God, Lane, I just want to take you now. It makes my blood boil.”
Lane chuckled and shook his head. He wasn’t the one the other guys wanted; it was all Mike.
“Come on, let’s dance some more,” Lane said.
“Sure. But first, give me your shirt.”
Lane laughed as Mike tugged at his shirt. He lifted his arms and allowed Mike to remove it. Mike swung it over head before tucking the shirt into his belt loops. They moved to the dance floor, rocking and grinding together, their bodies hot. He could feel the stiff ridge of Mike’s cock against his.
The way Mike stared at him made his heart beat faster. Mike looked amazing with sweat on his skin, his eyes bright, his cheeks a little pink as they moved together. There was no question, he had the sexiest man on the dance floor.
After a few more hours, they headed back to his apartment, barely making it in the door before Mike started ripping at his clothes. He was naked, pressed up against the door with Mike humping him. A delicious thrill raced through him. This was better than ice cream on a hot summer day.
“Fuck, Lane…so freaking hot. I wanted to fuck you on the dance floor.”
He grunted and thrust his hips. “We need some lube.”
“I know. Tomorrow, I’m going to have to pick up some.”
He moaned as Mike stroked him. Then Mike dropped to his knees and slid his tongue over Lane’s cock and it was like heaven had come down and wrapped its arms around him. He rolled his eyes up in his head and groaned. He was going to come soon if Mike kept this up.
The feel of Mike’s tongue and lips on his dick was so blissful he never wanted it to stop. If he could, he would just have Mike lick him all day long. He wove his fingers in Mike’s hair and pumped slowly, rocking his hips just a little. It felt so good to be fucking Mike’s mouth.
The fire inside built, and he clutched at Mike’s hair. “Now…” He drew in a slow breath, trying to calm himself, but it was no use. “Fuck…gonna…”
Mike pulled off as the first bit of his orgasm shot out. Lane watched as his cum struck Mike’s face and chest. He wanted to howl and claim victory as his seed coated Mike’s body.
He caught Mike’s chin and bent low, licking the cum off Mike’s cheek. “Fucking awesome. That’s what you are.” He pushed Mike to the floor and settled between his legs.
Lane dipped and licked over Mike’s hairy thighs then nuzzled his balls before sucking one into his mouth. He tugged gently before letting it go. He sucked on his fingers before positioning them at Mike’s opening. With his other hand he guided Mike’s cock to his mouth as he pressed in with his fingers.
Mike tugged hard on his hair, but he wasn’t stopping. His fingers slipped in and Mike stilled, his body held stiff.
Lane sucked in more of Mike’s cock, swallowing most of it before sliding up then going down again. Mike was panting, calling out Lane’s name as he blew him.
Mike stiffened, and his cock grew bigger. Lane closed his eyes and went down on him just as he started to pulse. Cum shot down the back of his throat, and he swallowed.
When Mike finished, he pulled off and pulled out his fingers, and wiped them on his shirt. He sat up and stared at Mike who looked limp as a noodle. “Did you like it?”
“Fuck, Lane, that was amazing,” Mike slurred.
“I liked it too.”
“Good Lord, I never knew being gay would be so awesome.”
Lane laughed then pulled Mike up before bending to pick up their clothes. “It is kind of awesome. I like sucking you. Actually, I liked eating your cum.”
Mike’s lips twisted. “I tried, but I just can’t swallow yet.”
Lane understood. At first, he didn’t think he would be able to, then it just seemed like the right thing to do. “It’s okay. I’m sure there are other things we’ll do that you’ll like.”
“I really want to fuck you.”
Lane reached out and tugged Mike close, running his tongue over Mike’s neck then nibbling on his ear. “We’ll get some lube and condoms then try it.”
“I can’t wait.”
They showered then dropped into bed after he pulled the shade low so the sunlight would be blocked. It was close to four in the morning, and he hoped this would get him back onto his schedule. He had to work tonight and couldn’t afford to be tired.
8
Mike made it through the weekend and the event without too many issues. Exhaustion sapped him, and he dropped into Lane’s bed on Sunday morning, wiped out from almost no sleep and too much work.
He’d agreed to meet with Sharron the nex
t Friday after his move. He wasn’t sure how long it would take him to get everything to New York, but he hoped he could make it in one trip.
Lane barely moved when he came home. He’d missed his lover while he’d been babysitting the overly pampered singer. It had taken all his discipline not to tell the diva to grow up.
When Lane’s alarm rang in the evening, he rolled over, barely even cracking open his eyes. Before Lane took off to the hospital, Mike climbed out of bed and gave him a kiss.
“I’ll be off for the next few nights, and we can pack your place.”
“Sure. My flight is tonight. I bought a ticket for you to fly out tomorrow afternoon.”
“Thank you.”
Lane kissed his cheek. “I can’t wait to see you. I’ll miss you.”
“And I’ll miss you.
“I’m glad you’re moving here with me.”
“Me too.”
Lane kissed him again before taking off. He gathered his things then headed to the airport. His place in Boston wasn’t too far from the airport, but traffic sucked. He certainly wouldn’t miss the packed streets. New York traffic was bad, but Boston was shitty as hell.
When he got to his place, he looked around his apartment and realized he lived a sad life. There wasn’t much other than a chair he wanted to keep. He had his clothes; his bed wasn’t great, and he’d never really decorated the place. He had money, but he’d lived like he was poor. The cool vases he’d seen in his travels, the art for his wall, the awesome designer touches he’d not bought because he thought he didn’t deserve them. Why had he thought he would need a storage place? His stuff was minimal, and he could have packed it up without having Lane fly up here.
After tossing his clothes in the one suitcase he owned that wasn’t full of his dirty clothes, he went to the laundry room and washed his stuff from the last week. After he finished, he ate some food and walked around his place. Though he wasn’t working much, he didn’t really have a life. He leaned against the wall and slumped to the floor, letting his head drop back. He closed his eyes