Between These Sheets

by Devon McCormack

  Tonight’s not the night for him to get curious. “I…uh…I didn’t really start gardening until after Caleb’s death.”

  “Oh, sorry. Shit.”

  “It’s okay. His mom gardened a lot before she started getting treatment for breast cancer, which is what she ended up dying from. Caleb always said that he kept the garden up in hopes that she’d be able to get back to it when she finished up her chemo regimen. But life didn’t work out like he planned, and she didn’t make it. When he got back from Iraq, he started gardening again. He actually taught me how to compost, which I think is the reason why I’m able to keep any of this shit alive. He always said keeping the garden made him feel like his mom was still a part of his life. When I was getting treatment for my PTSD, Laura encouraged me to find a hobby. Any hobby. It was the first one I could think of because of him, and also, I liked the idea that maybe it would be my own way of keeping him around.”

  “But you guys never had a…relationship? I mean, nothing more than friends?” Jay asks, and I understand why he’s asking.

  “Sounds weird, me being so attached to some guy I was in the military with even though we weren’t doing anything, doesn’t it? Maybe it was. Not that he wasn’t gay. I always kind of assumed the reason he got along with me was because he liked me more than he let on at first. His family was Southern Baptist, and I could tell by things he’d say that he was into guys. And I think that’s part of what made him gravitate to me…because we were similar in that way, but neither of us wanted to take it further. We never had a conversation about it, but I assumed we both knew we were batting for the same team. But he was more like a brother to me than anything else.”

  I don’t want to talk about it more than that. He doesn’t know how hard he’s hitting on the subject I’d rather not think about tonight, but my shaking starts to return.

  Fuckin’ A. “Can we talk about something else?”

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry. I thought that would actually be a safe subject when I brought the garden up.” The way he starts looking around like he’s trying to find a way out of the awkward situation makes me feel like shit that I even said anything. I doubt he feels great about being the one who’s reminding me of such a terrible part of my past.

  “Don’t be sorry,” I say. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For making everything a fucking trigger.”

  “You warned me it wasn’t going to be easy for you. I understand. It’s not a big deal.” He reaches across the table and sets his hand on mine, stroking his thumb gently across my skin. His touch soothes me.

  I didn’t think I’d be able to feel this way tonight, but being with Jay makes that possible.

  “You about finished eating?” I ask.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  I rise from my chair, gripping on to his hand. “I want you.”

  His eyes widen. It’s clear he’s surprised to hear that after what a big deal I made about tonight not being about sex, but he doesn’t fight. Just hops up from his chair. He smiles and kisses me.

  I don’t just want him tonight. I need him.

  He grips my hand and guides me back to the bedroom. So funny being led into my own bedroom.

  We brush our teeth and strip down, me to my boxers, him to his briefs. He lies across the bed, gazing at me as I step out of the bathroom, a cocky smile spread across his face. It’s the sort of smile that makes me feel safe.

  I approach him and sit on the side of the bed, removing my prosthesis. I can see his surprise. I usually wear it, but I don’t want to tonight. I want to be as I am with him. We’ve already pushed through so many barriers together, and this is another I want to share with him.

  He watches me, and tonight, more than any other night we’ve shared, I don’t feel uneasy. He knows this about me. He doesn’t have a problem with my issue.

  I suddenly don’t feel like there’s anything unusual or wrong with me.

  I’m not a broken man. Not when we’re together.

  I slide under the covers and cuddle up to him, kissing him gently at first and then letting the intensity build. He sets his hand back on my face and runs his thumb through my beard. He pushes toward me more aggressively than usual. He must know that’s what I need right now.

  For him to be strong. For him to guide me through this. I want to be submissive to him. He’s given it to me like that a few times since we started this, and he’s good. Real good. And that’s what I’m craving tonight.

  He rolls on top of me, his body pressed tightly against mine. His dick is sideways in his underwear, pushing perpendicular to mine as we thrust against each other.

  As we break our kiss, he says, “Let me give you this, Reese. Let me take away the pain. Let me make you feel so fucking good.”

  “Please,” I beg.

  He kisses down my chin. Down my neck. Down my chest and torso. To my boxers. He slides them down and pulls them off before swooping down and licking up and down my shaft. He angles my cock toward him before sliding it into his mouth, offering swirls with his tongue across the head before sliding it deep in his throat. He puts in the work, burying his face against my pubes as he takes it in. I fist my hand in his hair, imagining him swallowing my thick load as he’s done so many times.

  I turn to the nightstand and notice that he’s already laid out the condoms and lube. I retrieve them, and as he lets my dick fall from his mouth, he looks up at me and grins. “Well, aren’t you an eager beaver?” He removes his briefs and suits up while I remove my boxers. Soon, he’s working his way into me.

  The pressure feels so good. So distracting. I have to focus on loosening up because, as much as he gives me props for being big, so is he. Big enough that it takes some time before he can break into his stride and ride me good.

  He moves in just a little too quickly, and I press my hand against his hip. “Wait, wait.”

  He settles, gazing down at me, his eyes wide. He strokes a hand up and down my torso, petting my body like he wants to set me at ease. “Sorry,” he says. “I just want it to feel good. I want you to feel so good.”

  His words relax me enough that I feel more comfortable. I grip onto his hip and tug for him to push deeper in. He does, being cautious, watching my expression to make sure he isn’t moving too quickly.

  A rush of energy sweeping through me lets me know he’s hit my prostate. Goosebumps follow the sensation, pricking across my flesh as he offers another thrust that electrifies my body.

  “Take me, Jay. Own my body. Make me yours.”

  He accepts the invitation and pushes. His face is serious as he works like he would at the factory…his attention fixed on the task at hand.

  He leans down and kisses me, each kiss wetter than the last. His tongue greets mine and our kisses become more frenzied and passionate as I delight in the sensations he fills my body with.

  I need him to keep me in this moment. I need to seize it so that it never leaves and that nothing in either of our pasts can catch up with us. We just have to fuck until we both can escape all the demons that hound us.

  Being with him between these sheets, I feel so vulnerable and safe at the same time. I spend so much of my day grasping for sanity. Reaching for this impossible dream of lucid thought. But in this moment, I can breathe and feel without any of the distractions.

  And it’s all because of Jay.

  He grabs hold of my hair and yanks, pulling my head back, breaking our kiss. He breathes against my face as he continues to take me.

  “I love it,” I say, feeling liberated by how he’s claiming my body.

  “I want to make you come so hard,” he says. “I want you to forget everything as I make you spooge all over yourself.”

  “Make me,” I plead.

  19

  Jay

  Each thrust provides a sweet sensation as his hole massages my cock. I wrap my arms around his thighs and bury my dick inside him, offering him the sort of fuck he wants right now. The sort of fuck he needs tonight. H
e kicks his head back and moans.

  He sets his hand on my shoulder. “Fuck me just like that, Jay.”

  I look down at his cock, which he’s just grabbed hold of. He strokes it as a long stream of pre-come oozes out of the head. Knowing how turned on he is only makes me even harder.

  “God, you’re hard tonight, Jay,” he says.

  I lift his left leg, twisting his body to the side slightly as I pull his thigh flat against my body. “Oh, this ass is all mine,” I say, squeezing his ass cheek, which is clenched tight.

  I work up a sweat, building into my rhythm. His cock continues spewing, dripping down his belly, onto the sheets. His mouth hangs open as he cries out, and I can’t fight the impulse to shove my fingers in there. I feel around while he licks eagerly.

  He looks at me, and I can tell that he’s not seeing through me like he has been these past few days. He’s looking right at me. Right into me.

  He’s lost in this moment and so am I.

  This is what we needed. This escape. This freedom.

  And I’m just pleased that I can be here to give it to him, even if it’s as brief as this fuck.

  “Flip over,” I say, guiding him onto his knee and lifting his right leg by his thigh, holding him up as I fuck him from behind. He grips onto the headboard with both hands as I take him.

  I’ve never been this bold with his body before. I’ve never taken command because I didn’t want him to feel self-conscious, but he doesn’t resist, and I’m glad because this position feels even better, and I can tell by the way he starts calling out that it must feel pretty damn good to him too.

  “You’re gonna make me come like this, you fucking bastard,” he says.

  I push in harder and harder because I want him to spew his load and enjoy a sweet-as-fuck orgasm. I lean down and kiss behind his ear as I continue penetrating him. I work even harder, encouraged by the way he calls out. Sweat drips off my forehead and slides down his back, into the chiseled grooves between his muscles—the ones that make me wish I had his fucking build.

  “This body, these fucking muscles…everything about how beautiful you are just turns me on so fucking much.” I pound even harder.

  “I’m seriously not even gonna have to touch it,” he says.

  “Don’t then,” I say, gripping onto his hip with my free hand as I lean back and take what’s mine. Give him what’s his.

  His triceps and biceps flex as he tightens his hold on the headboard. With his back arched, all his muscles are contracted, displaying how beautiful he is. How well he’s sculpted this incredible physique. And it’s all for me to enjoy right now.

  I’m such a lucky bastard.

  The pressure in my balls is so intense I feel like I might shoot at any moment. “I want to look at you,” I say. “I want to see your face when I come.”

  He shifts, and I slide out. He rolls onto his back. He’s frantic like he’s just as desperate for me to be fucking him missionary as I am. He gazes up at me, his quick breaths and red face assuring me that I’m not the only one getting a workout.

  I slide back in.

  “Fuck the come out of me, Jay!”

  I grab his wrists and pull them back behind him, pinning them against the pillow as I continue pleasuring myself in his hole. Before I know it, he’s calling out like some sort of animal. It’s not a sound I’ve heard him make before. This is feral. I’m freaked out for a moment as I look at him and see his head twisted to the side as he moans through his teeth, then unleashes a full-fledged scream, his eyes revealing just how intense the experience is.

  The pressure in my pelvis pulsates through me, and before I know it, I am jerking in a wild, violent succession. His eyes go wide, and I look down to see him spraying his load across his rock-hard abs, the white semen flowing like a geyser. My own come shoots through me like a bullet, into the condom. I delight in the sensations that race through my body, sending a hot flash to my face.

  My balls tighten like they’re trying to squeeze every last drop out, and despite having come already, my hips continue thrusting like I’m still trying to rub one out.

  I collapse on top of him, releasing his wrists, not caring about the come that I’m getting all over my belly. Because it’s his, and I want as much of it on me as I can get right now.

  My cheek pressed against his, I can feel his breath slamming against my ear and his sticky sweat on my face. “Oh my God,” he keeps saying, clearly caught up in the power of his own climax.

  We kiss with that same wild energy we had when we first hooked up. I don’t think I realized how much we needed that until I’d shot my load. But considering how stressed out he was from today and how much I was after talking about my brother, I think we were both desperate for the release that we could give each other. And now I crave being close to him in a way I’ve never craved before. I want to cling to him.

  I’m terrified he’s going to make me pull out because I know how sensitive my prostate gets after I come, but I’m relieved that he doesn’t say anything. That he just keeps kissing me.

  As the high settles, soon we’re just holding onto each other. We haven’t gotten up to shower yet. Just stayed wet with our spooge and sweat. I don’t want it to end. I want to hold on to this for a little longer. Being covered in his semen. Being all his.

  I lie on my back as he lies on his side, his torso pressed tightly against mine. His gaze travels down my body, and I don’t try to cover up because I can tell that he’s appreciating everything he’s looking at. “Thanks for the great fuck,” he says, a sly smile sweeping across his face.

  “Thank you.”

  “And thanks for coming over here tonight. I needed this. More than you can know.”

  His expression, filled with appreciation and ease, is so wonderful. And again, I find myself imagining that we could be more than just fucking. We already are that. We might not have called this a date, but that’s basically what it is.

  And here I am in his bed—the only place I want to be right now.

  “I’m sorry for being such a downer earlier,” I say. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like I’ve had some bleak, miserable experience. I’ve obviously had good times with my brother. Great times.”

  “I’d like to hear about those.”

  I smile.

  “No, seriously,” he says.

  “Todd was a funny guy. When we’d wake up to go to school, he would run out and grab the local paper and bring it in so we could read the comics section together. We each had our favorites, so we’d skip around on the same page at different places. When one of us found something really funny, we’d make sure the other read it when they were finished with the one they were on. But Todd was even funnier than some of them. He’d take a pen and re-write some of the dialogue bubbles, especially on the ones he thought were boring as crap.

  “That’s the kind of guy he was. We didn’t have much, but he knew how to make me laugh. Even if Dad had gotten mad or started hitting one of us. One time Dad beat him up so much that when I found him crying in his room, I asked him if he was okay, and he said, ‘It just sucks that he never learned how to throw a punch. I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out like this.’ I know that sounds disturbing as fuck, but that’s how we survived. Whenever Dad would go off on one of his tantrums, we’d make jokes about it. One time when I got it bad, I was curled up in bed, and Todd came running in. He was so freaked out and then he was like, ‘What are we gonna do now that Dad found the secret passage to Narnia?’ And I couldn’t stop laughing after that. He could break through tension like it was made of paper. Just that power he had made all the hard stuff that much easier to deal with.

  “One night, we stayed up late watching TV. Dad wasn’t home. He had gone out to play cards with some of his friends. That’s what he told us back then, but I think there was a girl because it was kind of regular for a while. We flipped on this old George Carlin special, and we laughed so hard. We laughed until we couldn’t breathe. And then Todd got to
making jokes off of Carlin’s jokes, and I fell off the couch, onto the floor. I seriously thought I was gonna pass out because I couldn’t get any air in my lungs. And I was crying. I begged him to stop, but he just kept on, and I was as happy as I ever can remember being. We spent the next few hours laughing and giggling until we passed out on the couch. That moment…when I think of Todd, what I loved about him, that’s what I always go back to. Seeing how happy he was. Remembering how happy we both were. That for just a few hours, we could escape the shitty trailer we were in, forget about Dad and all the bullshit, and just let go and experience real joy.”

  Tears are in my eyes, but for a moment, it’s because I’m so goddamn thankful that I got to experience that beautiful moment with him. That I was lucky enough to have had that time to appreciate Todd.

  “That’s beautiful,” Reese says.

  “He was.”

  He leans down and kisses me gently, offering relief from the sting of remembering that such an amazing creature is gone forever, leaving only the memories that I so desperately cling to.

  20

  Reese

  The constant drumming of machine gun fire competes with the blasts of automatic rifles. We race through the narrow alleys between the concrete buildings of Fallujah, scrambling after the fucking ambush we just encountered.

  Drake checks the next corner and urges us to continue ahead. With Caleb to my left and Drake falling back on my right, we hurry along, the other guys tailing behind us.

  A sound blasts through the air.

  It’s the sort of sound we’ve come to fear and expect.

  An IED. It’s deafening for a moment, but we don’t see the blast. Just watch as the nearby building collapses toward us.

  “Fuck!” Drake shouts. Energy shoots through my body like a bullet as I hear one of my commanding officers shouting orders behind me, but I can’t understand what he’s saying. I don’t even think he’s giving us orders as much as he’s screaming for his own sake. To keep himself from feeling like everything’s gone to hell.