by Brandon Witt
He wrapped his fingers around Bobby’s cock and started a slow stroke. The head of Bobby’s erection grazed against Tommy’s with every pass of his hand, and all he could think about was the two of them coming together, spilling out white heat all over each other, getting sticky and messy.
As if Bobby was reading his mind, he wrapped his fingers around both of their cocks, stroking them together. “Oh God, Bobby, you feel so good,” Tommy hissed. Another desperate sound escaped when the rough pad of Bobby’s thumb circled the head of Tommy’s cock, slicking its way through clear fluid. “Don’t stop,” he whispered as he rocked his hips harder, forcing a faster rhythm into Bobby’s hand.
Bobby’s strokes got rougher, full of intention, and Tommy knew Bobby was trying to get them off in a rush, quick and dirty, the way they’d grown accustomed to, the way they needed it to be tonight.
He was ready to let Bobby carry him over the edge, grinding against the sensation as he slid his own hands down Bobby’s sides. “Wait,” he whispered, pushing Bobby back.
They were about to make a mess of Bobby’s uniform, and Tommy didn’t think going into the station with come stains all over himself would get Bobby the right kind of attention from his superiors. Though knowing Bobby, he probably kept a spare in the car.
Maybe it was Bobby’s comment earlier about only having use for him when Bobby was sucking his cock, or maybe it was the simple fact that Tommy was letting himself truly appreciate how much more Bobby deserved. “Let me….”
He didn’t explain, instead he sank to his knees in front of Bobby.
Bobby looked like he couldn’t have spoken if he’d wanted to, but he gave a little nod and rested one hand on the dryer as he leaned back against it. The concrete floor was going to make Tommy regret it in the morning, but for the first time since they’d been together, he wanted to do this for Bobby. Tommy had never explained his general dislike for giving head, but Bobby had never questioned it.
It wasn’t Bobby’s fault that one night on his knees for a few ugly old men when he was sixteen was enough to get the power turned back on. It wasn’t Bobby’s fault Tommy had felt dirty and used and disgusted with his life and with himself that night. It wasn’t Bobby’s fault that he never truly ruled it out as an option if the kids needed something he couldn’t steal or work hard for, if it meant the difference between them surviving and staying together or them going hungry. It wasn’t even Bobby’s fault Tommy had never told him. He just didn’t think he could stand the look he’d see on Bobby’s face. Not quite disgust, but a deep and pure hatred for what Tommy had had to do at too young an age. It was easier, less painful, to let Bobby think he was a selfish prick who didn’t like to reciprocate.
But not tonight. Something about Bobby made it easier to let go of all the ugly things he’d seen and done. Bobby put up with his bullshit. He looked after his family whether Tommy was there or not. He made Tommy laugh, and he never backed down. The relentless bastard had dug himself so deep into Tommy’s heart, there was no getting him out. It scared the hell out of him, but he was just going to have to let that ride.
He parted his lips around the head of Bobby’s cock and smiled before he opened his mouth wider. Bobby pushed in slowly, like he was still waiting for permission. Tommy slid his hand over the dusting of golden hair that covered Bobby’s thighs until he reached his ass. He let his fingers trail against the muscles for a long minute before he pulled Bobby in farther, encouraging him to go deeper into his mouth.
The sound Tommy heard from him was wild, unbelieving, and overwhelmed. Bobby started to rock his hips harder as Tommy wrapped his free hand around the base of Bobby’s cock, stroking him with every motion, at the same time not letting him go too deep. He let out a muffled moan against Bobby as he tightened his grip around his cock and slipped a fingertip against Bobby’s entrance.
With the new sensation, Bobby thrust his hips in one sharp snap. “Oh shit, Tom,” he muttered.
His tone of voice didn’t match the words. It was almost apologetic, and Tommy could feel Bobby lace his fingers into his hair, petting smoothly, like he was trying to soothe Tommy with the touch. Tommy groaned in response, moving with Bobby, trying to take him deeper and give him more, because he was realizing Bobby deserved everything and then some.
Tommy’s jaw was starting to ache already, and his lips were wet with spit as he slicked his mouth over Bobby’s cock, moving faster and harder and trying to get this one thing right. He knew Bobby was close when his rhythm started to stutter, his hips bucking uncontrollably, and Bobby let out that same strangled sound he always did right before he came.
Tommy could’ve pulled off, could’ve easily stroked Bobby to release, let him come all over his face, but he didn’t. He dropped a hand to his own aching erection and took Bobby as deep into his mouth as he could.
He was panting for breath, nearly choking, but he wouldn’t pull off. He stroked himself faster as Bobby flooded his mouth. He let Bobby’s release pull his own climax out of him. Tommy covered the head of his own dick and came hard at the sound of a sharp cry as it tore from Bobby’s throat.
“For fuck’s sake,” Bobby whispered breathlessly into the darkness.
Tommy got to his feet slowly and pulled his jeans up before wiping his hand on them. He let Bobby pull himself together before he leaned in and kissed him soundly.
“That was pretty great,” Bobby muttered against Tommy’s lips.
“Glad ya stopped by tonight, then?”
Bobby snorted a laugh and kissed the side of Tommy’s neck. He trailed his fingers over Tommy’s throat, running a gentle line over Tommy’s Adam’s apple. Tommy could tell he was thinking of something, trying to decide if he should say it out loud or not. Tommy’s vote, when faced with a similar internal debate, was usually ‘not,’ unless absolutely necessary, but Bobby didn’t have that problem.
“I thought you didn’t like giving head.”
It wasn’t really a question, not an accusation either, just a statement, a puzzle Bobby was trying to solve.
And there it is. “I usually don’t,” Tommy answered honestly.
When Bobby pulled back and searched Tommy’s face in the dim shadows, looking like more questions were about to tumble out of his mouth, Tommy smiled and added, “Seems like you’re the exception to most of my rules.”
That one simple answer seemed to satisfy everything for Bobby. He grinned stupidly and leaned in close. Tommy thought he was going in for a kiss, but Bobby paused just before their lips brushed together and whispered, “I’m taking that like you mean it in a good way.”
He did kiss Tommy then.
“Maybe I do,” Tommy murmured against Bobby’s mouth. He was trying to tease, but it was the truth. A scary, unrealistic truth that would probably get one or both of them hurt in the long run, but being honest this one time wouldn’t do any more damage than anything else they’d already done.
“YOU WORKIN’ tonight?” Colleen asked as she put a few groceries away. She had to stand on her toes to do it, but she wouldn’t let Tommy help. He had to laugh. She was more like him than either of them would like to admit.
He was on perishable duty, sorting out the canned goods from the things that needed to go into the freezer. “Nah,” he answered absentmindedly. “Figured you might need some backup tonight if the kids are gonna get to bed on time. I swapped with Shawna.”
The summer had gone by like everything else in Tommy’s life—in a stressful rush. He had finally forced himself to quit smoking, but he still reached for his pack with every new crisis.
Tommy could already feel the pinch from losing their summer work, despite knowing the paychecks would be the same for another week or two. He and Colleen had gone head-to-head about her working extra shifts at the bowling alley. In the end, she’d gone against his wishes and done it anyway. She worked and slept, and that was about it for the last two months. It made his heart ache, but later he realized she had been using it as a way to put some distance between her and Wyatt.
Halfway through her frenzy of double shifts, he’d left for college, off to another state. Tommy could tell she was doing her damnedest not to miss him. He couldn’t think of anything to say that would make it better, make it easier for her, so he hadn’t said anything at all.
Colleen was about done with her half of the groceries, and Tommy was tucking a flat of eggs into the refrigerator. “Gonna suck, getting everyone up and ready. They’ve been staying up till dawn,” he said, scowling at the small puddle creeping out from under the refrigerator.
“We’ll manage.”
With a shrug, Tommy grabbed a dirty towel from the pile waiting for the washing machine and toed it under the dripping water. “Always do.”
“Bobby coming by tonight?”
Tommy couldn’t help but smirk. “Nah, he’s on patrol tonight, but we got a date for nap time in the morning.”
Colleen shot him a wicked grin. “He’s probably the only one around here looking forward to school starting again.”
“I’m not exactly crying over it either.” Tommy laughed along with her. “The extra money and extra work is nice, but getting Davey outta my hair for a few hours a day will be better.”
He felt bad as soon as he said it. Davey was a pretty good kid, especially given his circumstances. Yeah, he liked to take risks and raise a little hell, didn’t want to do his homework or his chores, but Tommy was fairly sure most thirteen-year-olds were the same. On the other hand, letting Davey’s teachers keep him out of juvie during the day was a much-needed relief. “You hear from Wyatt lately?” Tommy asked. He knew he shouldn’t bring it up, but he wanted her to talk if she was willing.
“He texted me a few times.” Colleen’s voice was as soft as smoke, ready to drift off into the air and disappear.
“You text him back?”
The guilty look in her eyes answered his question. “Been busy, ya know?”
Tommy took a step toward her, reaching his hand for her shoulder as he spoke. “Col, ya can’t just—”
“Tommy! Get in here!”
Collin’s voice cut across everything he was about to say. The kid sounded panicked and Tommy tore out of the kitchen with Colleen following close on his heels.
He found all the kids in the living room staring at the television. Max and Zoe were the only ones not paying it any attention. “What the hell’s the matter?”
Collin pointed at the screen in answer. Tommy looked at an aerial view shot from a helicopter with a bold caption under it that said “Breaking News” in bright red letters. Cop cars and aid units were scattered all over the road, people being wheeled away on stretchers, some in body bags.
The news cut to the anchor desk, and an old man with a bad comb-over and a striped tie was making the announcement. “From what we can gather so far, the shooting started about seven fifteen this evening. It began when police investigated what they thought was a domestic disturbance near the lot of abandoned buildings on the corner of Houser and Pine.” He cleared his throat and glanced at the monitor behind him before turning his face back to the camera. “The first officers on the scene were trying to break up the argument when one of the suspects opened fire. Things degraded quickly from there.”
The newscaster paused again and put his hand to his ear over what Tommy assumed was an earpiece.
Mike pointed at the screen again. “Is one of those guys Bobby?”
Tommy squinted at the picture. “Can’t tell from here. He’ll call us when he can.”
Tommy tried to sound unworried, but he knew he failed. His heart was pounding in his chest so hard it felt like a sledgehammer against his ribs. The anchor looked at the camera again and it felt like Tommy’s heart suddenly stopped beating altogether. He wondered, somewhere in the back of his mind, if that was even possible. If someone could get news so bad they could drop over dead from the shock and the pain of it.
It felt possible to him in that moment.
“We’ve got confirmation now. There were in fact four wounded officers at the scene. Two are still in critical condition at this time. Eight civilians have been injured as well. Most are in stable condition, though there was at least one fatality. Names of the injured and dead are not being released to the public. The police are now stating that this was, as we were wondering, gang related.
“We will resume regular broadcasting now, but keep your channels set to KWRH for more breaking news and be sure to catch our News at Eleven for more details of tonight’s shooting, as well as this week’s forecast.”
Tommy couldn’t believe the guy was smiling at him. Smiling like he’d just announced a set of lottery winners. Smiling like the ground under Tommy’s feet hadn’t shifted.
He felt Colleen’s hand on his shoulder. He could hear her voice, but the words didn’t make much sense: “Maybe we can call the hospital, or…?”
“I don’t know,” he muttered as he raked his hand through his hair. “I don’t have a fucking clue what to do. I….” Some part of his brain kicked in, and he grabbed his phone, punching in Bobby’s number on autopilot. It went straight to voice mail. “Christ!”
He threw his phone across the room and didn’t even think to be grateful when it didn’t break into pieces against the wall.
Carrie had curled herself into a little ball on the floor in front of the couch. She had silent tears streaming down her face, and she rocked herself like she’d done when she was little and had a nightmare. Tommy knew he should get down there, hold her, make her feel better, but he still couldn’t think. Everything was moving in slow motion. All he had was a jumble of problems with no clear solution. His whole life was problems with no answers, but this? This was throwing him for a loop so hard, he didn’t know if he’d come back from it.
Davey sat down next to Carrie and put his arm around her shoulder. He kissed her head and told her, “I’m sure he’s fine. Bobby’s always careful.”
She nodded her head in response, but didn’t look like she believed him. Her eyes were shining and full of fear when she looked up to Tommy. “Go find out, Tommy. Please?”
He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and nodded his head. “Okay, Carrie. I’ll go down to the hospital and see what I can find out, all right?”
Carrie ran her arm across her face, wiping up snot and tears with her sleeve. Her lip was still quivering, but she wouldn’t let another tear fall. He had to hand it to her, she was an O’Shea through and through. “Okay, Tommy.”
He felt Colleen press the car keys into the palm of his hand, but he didn’t even glance at her as he headed for the door.
THE CAR didn’t want to start at first. It chugged and hissed and sounded like it might not make it through the night, let alone the rest of the year. Tommy stopped trying for a minute. He dropped his head to the steering wheel and did something he hadn’t done in nearly twenty years. He prayed. Not a soft prayer, not a gentle request for help. Tommy’s prayer was full of rage and anger and hate for a God he didn’t think existed. Because if God was real, if there was anything out there that was supposed to look after him and his family, they were falling down on the job. To Tommy, God was worse, a bigger betrayer than his own father.
“Come on, you son of a bitch!” he yelled so loud and so hard his throat felt raw. “You start this fucking car right fucking now!” He pounded his hand on the steering wheel until he thought he might break his bones. “If you ever give me one fucking thing in my whole miserable life, give me this!”
He let out another strangled scream and he could feel the hot spike of tears building behind his eyes, but he tried the car again. Miraculously—or, more likely, coincidentally—the car roared to life, and Tommy tore out of the driveway like a demon nipped at his shadow.
THE EMERGENCY room was worse than he’d ever seen it. Every corner of the waiting room was filled with people crying, wringing their hands, and talking in urgent whispers. Doctors and nurses were moving through the corridors like Olympic sprinters, and the line for the front desk was so
deep with concerned people, Tommy couldn’t count them all.
He stood there, with his fingernails cutting into the palms of his hands because his fists were too tight, for at least a half hour. He ran through his mental list of contacts, trying to think of anyone he knew who might be able to get information faster. There was no one. Anyone in his life, his friends, his neighbors, were no help for something like this. If he needed a handgun, if he needed an ounce of weed or, hell, even heroin, he knew a guy who knew a guy. If he needed a bail bondsman or a fake ID, he could make a call and have a few options in ten minutes. He could probably even find someone in the morning to take a look at his car who would barter or do it for next to nothing. But this? He had to stand and wait and hope like everyone else in the world.
When he got to the front of the line, the woman in pink scrubs behind the desk looked like she was about six hours past her break time with no relief in sight. He tried to settle himself and not take anything out on her, but his fuse was cut short. “Hi, I’m here to check on someone,” he said, trying to take the edge out of his voice.
“Name?” She only glanced at him before looking back at her computer screen.
“Bobby, uh, Robert McAlister.”
She typed quickly and hit the enter button about eight times before looking up at Tommy again. “Are you family?”
“I….” He thought about just lying to her and saying yes. What could they do? How were they supposed to prove it if he wasn’t? But in the end, he said, “Uh, no, just a friend.”
She let out a heavy sigh and recited what she’d probably had to say a thousand times already that night. “I’m sorry, sir, I’m not allowed to release any information to anyone unless they’re family.”
He bit his lip in frustration and tried to remind himself that it was a good thing they kept random people from getting personal information about patients. “Can you at least tell me if he’s here?”
She looked directly in his eye and repeated herself firmly. “I’m sorry, sir, I’m not allowed to release any information to anyone unless they—”