Asylum (Pride and Joy Book 2)

by Robert Winter

  Colin smiled gently at him. “Don’t worry about it for one second. Do you need a napkin or a tissue?”

  Hernán couldn’t look at him directly but he said, “I think I’ll go to the men’s room and clean myself up. Okay?”

  “I’ll be here,” Colin said firmly. Hernán no longer doubted it.

  The drive back to the condo building was quiet, but it didn’t feel heavy to Colin. Hernán looked out the window as they made their way through traffic but when a current pop song came on the radio, he tapped his finger against his leg in time with the beat. He noticed Colin watching him and gave a slight smile that lifted Colin’s heart. When they got home, Hernán excused himself to take a nap.

  Colin settled in to his home office to catch up on some work he’d neglected while accompanying Hernán. He found it difficult to concentrate though.

  His thoughts kept taking him back to the blank look on Hernán’s face as he described the things he’d been through and what had been done to him. It was almost like he spoke on autopilot, describing events he’d seen in a movie rather than things he’d experienced. Telling it all out loud seemed to mortify Hernán; hopefully it was also—possibly—liberating.

  The story he told was sadly similar to accounts Colin had learned from clients of the Immigration Initiative. So many people, desperate for the promise that the United States held itself out to be, risked everything. Hernán was far from the first person who told stories of sexual abuse during the journey. In truth, Hernán was one of the lucky ones; many, many others disappeared on their journeys, sometimes into sexual slavery or unmarked graves.

  The injustice of Hernán’s grandmother, the torment of the gang members, the cruelty of Lonnie, all felt like wounds on Colin’s own body. He’d wanted to stop Hernán several times but realized—once begun—the tale had to come out. All he could do then was hope Hernán drew security and strength from his presence.

  By the time Hernán had finished, Colin was nearly blind with his own rage, yet bursting with pride at Hernán’s victory. Sofia’s eyes were glassy and her face was a mask of pain and sorrow. Strangely, Hernán had seemed the calmest person in the room.

  A few hours later, alone and with time to process, the horrors Hernán described began to enrage Colin again. Colin wasn’t a violent person but if he could find that Lonnie hijo de puta and make him pay, he would.

  Even Hernán’s grandmother. What kind of woman could be so cold and cruel to her own flesh and blood?

  So many things made more sense to Colin. The way Hernán tried to hide by keeping his hair long and drawn forward over his face. The bleakness Colin could see creep into his eyes at times. The way he seemed to welcome Colin’s hugs, yet could allow no more.

  Since he wasn’t getting work done anyway, Colin began to research. The internet drew him into an ocean of pain and healing as he tried to educate himself about sexual abuse and rape.

  He had no illusions that he’d be able to lessen Hernán’s trauma—indeed, one thing he quickly realized as he read through innumerable stories of survivors was that Hernán needed professional therapy. But he hoped to learn from the stories of the loved ones of survivors, so he wouldn’t again stupidly trigger a response in Hernán like he had when they kissed.

  Eventually Colin realized it was dinnertime so he shut down his search engine and hurried to fix something simple. It didn’t seem like an evening for an elaborate meal, but he hoped Hernán would feel like talking more about the things he’d revealed. When Hernán came downstairs for dinner, Colin glanced up at him from the kitchen and then did a double-take.

  Hernán’s hair was pulled back into a ponytail, exposing his face in a way Colin had rarely seen before. He even looked bigger, as if he’d been so oppressed by the burden of secrets they’d kept him in a slouch. With his pain out in the open, Hernán stood taller.

  He met Colin’s stare and blushed, but didn’t look away as he walked into the kitchen. Coming right up to Colin, he pulled him into a rough hug. Colin couldn’t help but close his eyes with a soft sigh as Hernán tucked his head under Colin’s chin, the clean scent of Hernán’s body surrounding him.

  “Thank you.” Hernán spoke in a low voice Colin almost couldn’t hear. “For being there today.”

  “I’m very proud of you,” Colin said and squeezed tightly.

  Without releasing the hug, Hernán leaned back slightly and then pressed his lips to Colin’s. Hernán’s mouth was warm and lush, and Colin’s pulse pounded when he slanted his head to deepen the kiss. Hernán’s tongue lightly stroked the seam of Colin’s mouth. Colin opened but didn’t try for more. Whatever Hernán wanted was his to take, but Colin wouldn’t push.

  Yet he couldn’t entirely repress the moan that rose from his heart. Hernán in his arms, kissing him and tasting of sunshine… He’d dreamt of it since their first walk through Provincetown.

  Hernán’s lips curled slightly against his before he broke the kiss. “That was nice,” Hernán said, smiling. “Even better than the other night. I’ll want to do it again.”

  Colin released him with difficulty, regretting it the moment his arms were free and Hernán stepped back. “You can kiss me all you want.” He grinned shyly. “That was hella good.”

  Hernán laughed gently. “Look at you, talking like a cool kid.”

  “Hey, I’m not a complete nerd, you know.”

  “Says the Doctor Who fanatic.”

  “We’re called Whovians, and don’t think I missed it when you teared up at that last episode.”

  “It was dust in my eye.” Hernán looked around the kitchen. “What can I do?”

  “Just set the table. It’s nothing fancy tonight, a little stir fry.”

  “Well, it smells good. I woke up hungry.”

  Colin watched with one eye as Hernán lay out plates and silverware, seeming lighter somehow. He moved easily, and his laugh sounded more natural. “I’m glad you got in a nap,” Colin said cautiously. “It was an emotional day.”

  Hernán turned to face him, leaning back against a dining chair with his hands resting behind him on the top rung. He nodded and said, “But you know? Somehow talking about it made it, not okay but maybe…” He frowned slightly. “Over?”

  “I get that.”

  “I mean, I know it’s going to come up again and again as we go through this process.” Hernán shivered slightly.

  Colin dished up the sliced pork and mixed vegetables into a serving bowl. He brought it to the table while Hernán poured them each a glass of water. “Speaking of talking it out, how would you feel about seeing someone over what happened to you? A therapist.” He cringed even as he asked, afraid he was overstepping.

  Hernán frowned but he seemed thoughtful, not angry, when he responded. “A therapist? I don’t know. Now it’s all out, I can deal with it.”

  “It’s your choice, but someone trained in this may be able to come up with ways to handle things you wouldn’t otherwise know. Like, how to get calm if something triggers a bad memory.”

  Hernán considered as he chewed. “Let me think about it. This food is good, by the way.”

  Colin accepted the change of subject and the rest of the dinner passed comfortably. They cleaned the kitchen in an easy dance around each other.

  When Colin started for the living room and their usual ritual of watching some television together, Hernán put out a hand to stop him. He curled his fingers into Colin’s and looked up at him from under his lashes.

  The warmth of the hand in his did funny things to Colin’s stomach. The feeling grew more frantic when Hernán took a step closer to him, cleared his throat, and said, “What would you think…?” He stopped, blushing.

  Colin waited before prompting him. “About?”

  Hernán licked his lips nervously, and then stepped even closer, heat rising off his body. Colin’s dick began to swell from the proximity.

  Oh no, don’t look down. Please.

  “Colin, I like you more than I’ve ever liked any other
man, and I trust you. Talking about what Lonnie did… It lanced something inside me. I think I can make new memories now. So, I want to try something different tonight.”

  Colin’s heart beat faster. “I think you know how I feel about you, Nán. Anything you want to do, I’m up for.”

  Hernán flicked his glance down to Colin’s crotch and gave a small grin. “So I see.”

  Colin’s cheeks burned. He tried to pull away but Hernán held tight to his hand as he continued. “When I was lying there upstairs on the bed, I thought about you.” He bit his lip and hesitated, but then he swallowed. He looked squarely at Colin, resolve shining in his eyes.

  “I suppose I’ve always known I’m gay, but I’m twenty-one and I’ve never really touched a man. A man’s body, I mean. We hug but that’s different, and what Lonnie did—that wasn’t touching. I—I want to touch you. I don’t know how far I can go but I’d like to try.”

  Colin fought to control his breathing as hope flared in his belly like a star going nova. He brought Hernán’s fingers to his lips and kissed them. “You set the pace, Nán. You’re in control.”

  Hernán led him up the stairs by the hand and drew him into the guest room. He’d left the small lamp on the side table burning, making the room seem intimate and cloistered. Colin waited to be told what to do.

  Hernán leaned against the wardrobe, eyes holding Colin’s gaze. He blushed fiercely before he finally asked, “Can I see your body?”

  Colin hesitated only a moment. He hadn’t been naked in front of another man in quite a while. He didn’t have the muscles of his friend Brandon, or a physique like he’d glimpsed on Hernán through his clothes. But he kept active and watched his diet. He felt good enough about himself to give Hernán what he wanted. What he needed.

  He toed off his shoes, removed his socks and then pulled his sweater over his head, leaving him in a white T-shirt and khakis. Hernán studied him avidly. Something exciting burned in his dark eyes. It gave Colin the courage he needed to lift the hem of his tee, pull it off and toss it aside. The slight chill of the room made his nipples pebble as he stood there under Hernán’s gaze.

  Colin tugged his belt loose, unfastened his pants, and slowly lowered the zipper. Hernán tracked the movement of his hand as the pants fell open to reveal his white jockey shorts. His erection pressed against his hip to the left, a damp patch spreading where precome had begun to leak. He let the khakis drop to the floor and stepped out of them, leaving him in his shorts.

  He hesitated until he saw the gleam in Hernán’s eyes and the flare of his nostrils. Hernán breathed heavily, but in excitement, not fear. His own pants had tented—Colin seemed to be turning him on. That gave the last push he needed to hook his thumbs into his shorts and shove them to the ground. He kicked them away and then stood straight, arms loose and shoulders back, to await Hernán’s next step.

  His erection throbbed when Hernán came closer. He put a trembling hand on Colin’s chest and slowly dragged his fingers across the smooth skin there and toward his right nipple. He just brushed over it but Colin released a small gasp and shivered.

  Hernán smiled as he continued his exploration, sliding over Colin’s ribs and down to his belly. “You’re so lean,” he murmured. “Your skin feels like silk stretched over stone. I can see every single muscle shift underneath.”

  Instead of moving further south, Hernán trailed up Colin’s arm instead. He gripped the bicep and ran his thumb over it before stroking Colin’s shoulder and running up his neck. Colin inclined his head toward the roving hand as it glided over his cheek and up to his brow. Hernán’s smoldering eyes followed his fingers, but Colin couldn’t look away from Hernán’s intent expression and full, reddened lips.

  His breath hitched when Hernán slid his other arm around Colin’s waist, put his hand on Colin’s back, and pulled him into an embrace. Standing completely nude and hard against Hernán, still dressed, seemed surreal and erotic at the same time.

  Carefully he raised his own arms to return the hug, sensitive to any resistance or fear from Hernán. When he wound them around, though, Hernán just pulled him in tighter and sighed. The sound was contented. Happy.

  Hernán rested his cheek against Colin’s chest. “Your heart is pounding. Mine too.” After a few moments, he said, “I’d like you to lie on the bed now.”

  Colin stretched out with his head on the pillow. His erection stood tall and firm, its head glistening from his excitement. He fought the urge to grasp himself, because he was close to coming. Just from the light touches of Hernán’s hands and eyes.

  Hernán kicked off his own shoes. When he pulled off his shirt, Colin inhaled sharply at the slabs of muscle exposed. Hernán’s quarter-sized nipples accentuated the curve of his pectorals. Rippling abs ran down his stomach and disappeared into his pants, like something out of Colin’s most fevered fantasies.

  The ragged scar from Hernán’s stabbing and surgeries carved a lightning stroke over his side. Colin wanted to touch and kiss the mangled skin, but he didn’t dare move until Hernán was ready. Still, he couldn’t help saying, “You’re beautiful.”

  Hernán blushed and seemed uncertain for a moment until Colin’s dick flexed. That seemed to help him decide his next command. “I want to see you touch yourself,” Hernán rasped.

  Colin nearly cringed with embarrassment. He’d never done that with anyone present, not even a mutual j-o session with a boyfriend or hookup before—but he was being stupid. He did it alone every night, and lately it had always been to images his brain conjured of the man watching him avidly. The fact Hernán wanted to see him stroke off was a compliment.

  I can do this.

  He ran his gaze over Hernán’s body as he licked his left palm and reached for his dick, wrapping his fingers around the warm shaft. The silky skin slid up and down as he moved his hand slowly. Hernán inhaled sharply when he paused to swipe his thumb over the slit. Hernán’s eyes grew hot and his cheeks flushed. It gave Colin the impulse to raise his thumb to his mouth and suck off the precome coating it.

  Hernán’s mouth opened slightly as he tracked that thumb, as if he were the one loving it with his tongue and lips.

  Colin returned to stroking his shaft, dragging his fingertips lightly along the skin. Electric shocks lit up his body from the self-torture, and he raised his free hand to tug on his right nipple.

  Hernán lay down on the bed next to him, still wearing his pants but visibly hard and excited. Colin rolled his head to smile at him as he kept gliding his hand up and down his dick. Hernán shifted closer so his smooth, bare chest pressed against Colin’s arm. The warmth of his body, the firm muscle there, drew out a happy sigh from Colin that stuttered to a ragged gasp when Hernán covered Colin’s moving hand with his own. Their fingers twined together as they pulled and tugged and twisted on Colin’s cock.

  His balls pulled up tightly. “I’m going to come,” he choked out. Hernán tightened his grip and helped to draw the orgasm from the depth of Colin’s soul. He pressed his lips to Colin’s neck while Colin shot warm come all over his belly and chest, and kept stroking until Colin’s tremors stopped.

  “Ah God, that was good,” Colin gasped when his chest stopped heaving. He nuzzled Hernán’s cheek and murmured, “Oh, my angel. Mi ángel.” Hernán burrowed more deeply into his neck and rested his hand on Colin’s softening cock.

  Colin turned his head until he could run his eyes over Hernán’s handsome face, unable to hide any more what he felt. Hernán looked nervously back. He tensed, but when Colin made no move toward him, the tight lines around his eyes smoothed out. He leaned forward into a kiss.

  Colin relaxed his jaw slightly and was rewarded when Hernán slipped his tongue tentatively over his lips before pressing a little way into Colin’s mouth. He couldn’t help but stroke Hernán’s tongue with his own.

  Hernán pulled back, but not out of fear. Colin found heat and excitement in Hernán’s flushed face, and then Hernán unbuttoned his own pants and shoved them dow
n with his underwear. He kicked them to the floor and lay again so their naked bodies pressed together.

  Heedless of the come cooling on Colin, he tugged their bodies around until they were chest-to-chest, thigh-to-thigh. Hernán’s thick erection pressed against Colin’s stomach and Hernán kissed him again with his own gasp.

  When Colin’s tongue invaded his mouth, Hernán whimpered. Suddenly he rolled onto his back and grabbed his hard dick, stroking it furiously as Colin watched. His meaty cock had the most perfectly shaped head Colin had ever seen, appearing and disappearing as Hernán drew the foreskin up over it and back.

  It took no more than ten strokes before Hernán’s muscles all went taut. He growled as he arched his back and shot rope after rope of gleaming white come up to his chest and neck. Spasms wracked his body.

  He sagged onto the bed as his strokes grew lazier. Colin fought against the temptation to lick his chest and neck clean; as much as he wanted to do so, it felt like a step too far. Instead he got up long enough to grab his T-shirt and wipe Hernán down before swabbing his own sticky stomach and chest.

  Standing over Hernán, breathing in the scent of sex, he was taken by indecision. He knew what he wanted—to climb back into bed, wrap Hernán in his arms and sleep beside him all night—but he had no idea what Hernán was ready for.

  Hernán smiled up at him, a relaxed and genuine grin, warmer than any Colin had yet seen on him. “Your shirt didn’t do much,” Hernán said. “Maybe we need to take a shower.” He rolled off the bed, took Colin’s hand, and led him toward the guest bathroom.

  Colin’s body flooded with warmth, and he felt his own grin stretch his face ridiculously. Emboldened, he said, “We should use my shower. It’s a lot bigger.” Hernán glanced back at him and changed course to lead them through Colin’s bedroom and into the bathroom.

  He waited while Colin got the water started from three different shower heads and finally declared it warm enough, and then stepped into the spacious tiled chamber.