Seeking the Balance

by A. R. Moler

  “I’ll be careful, I promise. Oh God, I sound like I’m sixteen.”

  “I’m not your parent.”

  Cam stared into those beautiful blue eyes and his heart clenched. “What are we?” he whispered.

  “Lovers... I hope.”

  “We’re two guys.”

  “So? I lost my heart to you months ago. I want you in my life, permanently if I can get it. But much as I want to, I can’t make your choices for you. It hurts. The fear that I could lose you. To a plane crash, to a motorcycle accident... to someone else.” Cam watched the tears slip down his lover’s cheeks. “God, I’m such a wreck. I can’t even hold it together,” Mason muttered. He angrily scrubbed the sleeve of his shirt across his face.

  Cam cupped his lover’s face in his hands. “Not someone else. Very definitely not someone else. I couldn’t go through with it, even though I was stupid enough to think about it. It felt all wrong. She wasn’t you.” He carefully pulled Mason's body against his own and wrapped both arms around him. This was the man he had nearly gotten killed by an assassin. This was man who had pulled the trigger and saved him from his own death. This was the man who tolerated being Cam’s dirty little secret in a country that didn’t allow the military to have same-sex partners. His cheek rested on Mason’s forehead. Suck it up. Say the words. Tell him.

  “I love you,” Cam whispered. He tilted his head and placed a careful lopsided kiss on his lover’s forehead. His mouth still hurt.

  “I love you, too,” said Mason.

  Cam sat still for a long time just holding Mason. It was right. He hadn’t realized just how achingly hollow he had felt for days.

  Mason tipped his head back a little and nuzzled against the underside of Cam’s jaw. “Let me fix your mouth, please,” he said.

  Cam nodded.

  Mason’s fingertips brushed over the bruised and swollen skin of his lip and Cam could feel the soothing buzz of warmth. He licked across the inside edge, still tasting a hint of blood. The swelling was receding and Mason’s head was growing heavier on his shoulder. He kissed the healer’s fingertips and then pulled the hand back down to his chest.

  “Quit already. You’re done. You’re too tired for this,” Cam said. “You need some sleep. Do you have to work tomorrow?”

  “Noon.”

  “Good. It’s already pushing toward three am.” Cam hauled Mason to his feet and pushed him in the direction of the bedroom.

  ~

  Waking in the darkness to a warm tangle of limbs, Mason inhaled the scent of his lover. It was a mix of soap and sweat and male skin. Cam. To have Cam back after nearly a week’s worth of agony over whether he had made an unforgivable error, was incomparable. During sleep, they had unconsciously migrated tightly together. Cam’s head was tucked against Mason’s chest as if to listen to his heart, one arm flung over his body, one knee jammed between Mason's legs.

  Mason squinted at the display of the digital clock across the room. It read 6:20. He twisted his head and placed a kiss on Cam’s temple. His lover made a sleepy sound and stretched slightly. Cam nibbled softly at the base of Mason’s throat, then up the side toward the pulse point beneath his ear. Mason’s breath hitched and his fingers tightened on Cam’s hip as he felt arousal pooling in his groin. Too tired, his brain suggested half-heartedly; his cock had other ideas, especially when Cam’s mouth began sucking at the skin beneath the corner of his jaw.

  Mason slid his hand down inside Cam’s briefs, curling it around the curve of his lover's behind. His fingers explored along the warm cleft between butt cheeks. Cam made a huskier sound and ground his own arousal against Mason’s. He could feel the soft pressure of Cam’s mind on his psychic shielding and he dropped it so he could more fully sense the delicious intimacy of his lover’s presence. If someone had asked him to describe how his lover’s mind felt brushing along his own, Mason would have been hard pressed to find words that were adequate. Maybe somewhere between the feel of warm skin on lips and running your fingers through electricity. That probably didn’t make sense. He sometimes wondered how he felt to Cam.

  “You’re thinking too hard,” mumbled Cam as he bit gently at the skin he was sucking on. Wanna leave a mark. Mason was slightly surprised, he seldom got coherent specific thoughts from Cam. The teeth were more insistent, bringing a whisper of almost pain. Cam immediately relented a little, soothing the spot with a stroke of his tongue. Mason whimpered. The small sensation was going straight to his crotch, along with most of the blood in his body apparently. His brain was a fog of pure lust.

  His mouth sought skin, and came down against the firm muscles of Cam’s shoulder. Tracing across the trapezius, he licked and sucked on the skin there, twisting to bring his face down toward a tantalizingly tight nipple. He could feel Cam’s hand fisted in the hair at the back of his head, dragging him back upward for a deep passionate kiss.

  “Need to make love to you,” Cam whispered. “Need to hold you. Be in you and feel you in my head.” Mason gulped. It was raw and needy and the intensity of the emotion nearly sent him over the edge.

  “Yes,” was the only word that came out.

  For a moment, neither of them moved, then Mason managed to grope on the night stand for the tube of lube and the condoms. Cam nudged him to roll over and spooned up against his back. There was a moment of squirming as they both struggled out of their briefs. The feeling of Cam’s chest pressed to his back was a divine warmth.

  Slick fingers breeched him gently and Cam rained kisses down the back of his neck and across his shoulders. He rocked back a little, trying to increase the penetration. The fingers were gone and replaced moments later by the delicious pressure of his lover’s cock. Cam’s knee pushed up behind his top leg, edging it further forward into a hurdle position. Oh God, so good. He pulled Cam’s hand to his mouth, sucking on his fingers, tracing his tongue along the blunt tips. Cam moaned against the back of his neck.

  “Fuck... don’t... too much,” Cam gasped, trying to pull his hand from Mason’s grasp.

  Mason guided it toward his groin, where his erection bobbed against the tangled sheets of the bed. Cam’s fingers wrapped around his aching cock and stroked him firmly. He could feel his pulse pounding in his ears and in his crotch. Cam thrust harder into him, rolling him forward a fraction, changing the angle, slamming into his prostate. Time slowed down for a moment as he felt Cam’s body teeter on that knife edge. He yanked Cam’s mind as far into his own as he could, and it tipped the scale for both of them. Cam’s body slammed into him with almost a scream, cock pulsing, back arching. Mason sprayed hot pulses of come across his belly, Cam’s hand and the sheets, as the orgasm ripped through his nervous system. They were both left gasping for oxygen, muscles limp and shaky.

  Love you, Mason whispered inside his lover’s head.

  “Love you too,” murmured Cam. Mason could feel the intensity of the connection fading much the same way Cam was sliding from his body, but a little lingered. Mason pushed the sticky sheets off to one side and turned in the circle of Cam’s arms. He kissed Cam softly and they drifted back to sleep.

  ~

  Cam leaned against the desk where Mason kept his laptop. The doctor was checking email while drinking coffee. Mason glanced up at him. There were times when Cam felt like he could just drown himself in those blue eyes, and now was one of them. Where did they go from here? He supposed he could say they’d patched things back together well enough. But where did that leave them?

  “Talk to me, Cam. I can feel you stewing, even if I can’t figure out why,” said Mason.

  “You, um, you said you wanted me in your life permanently. What does that mean?”

  “Ideally, monogamy.”

  “I can live with that.” A brief image of pushing away from Sonja flitted through his memory. “What else?”

  “I’d like for you and me to both get tested, so we can forget about the condoms.”

  Cam’s throat tightened up a little. Don’t be an ass, he told himself, if you had a f
emale lover you’d have to worry about birth control. “Okay.”

  Mason hooked a finger in Cam’s belt loop and pulled him forward to stand between his legs. He loosely wrapped his arms around Cam’s hips and looked up at him. “I like having you around. Maybe I could convince you to leave some extra clothes here?”

  Cam’s fingers brushed down the side of his lover’s face. “If I start leaving stuff at your place, does that make me your boyfriend?” asked Cam.

  Mason grinned at him. “If you like. However that kind of makes us sound like we’re in high school. I’d rather say you’re my partner. Can you deal with that? I mean, I understand that we still have to put on the public face of just being friends. But it would be nice to be able tell a few select people, openly.”

  “Can I think about that last part? The telling people part. I know that a couple of the Division P people know, but I’m... kind of skittish about the regular people.”

  “For the moment I’d settle for us being open when we’re at P. Peter and Stephen obviously know, but we’re still doing the 'don’t touch' thing most of the time when we’re there. I’d like to be able to hold your hand or kiss you in plain view.” Mason sounded wistful, and the longing cut Cam like a knife. How could he have not realized how hard the secrecy was on Mason. The doctor was by no means a flamer, but he wasn’t in the closet either.

  “I’ll try to be more... relaxed when I can,” he said. He bent forward and kissed Mason, who tasted of coffee and sugar. Mason’s arms tightened around his hips a little. Damn. How could something that felt so right be viewed as wrong?

  “I’ve got to get moving. I’ve got office hours and then I need to go check on the little girl from last night’s case,” said Mason as Cam lifted his head.

  Chapter 2

  The rest of the day took a little finagling. Mason had to drop Cam back at the hospital to get his motorcycle and then dash back to the orthopedic office for a long afternoon filled with a stream of patients. Then back to hospital again to check on the little girl with the crush injury. Everything was healing within acceptable limits on her leg except her little toe and a small portion of the foot. Dead tissue was beyond his capabilities. He was going to have to take her back to the OR to remove that part. He sighed in frustration. After notifying the parents and making the necessary scheduling arrangements for the surgery, he headed for the cafeteria. Over a mediocre meal, he called Cam.

  “Hey, I’m going to be at the hospital for a while, probably at least a couple hours,” Mason said.

  “Problem?” asked Cam.

  “Nothing really unexpected. I’m going to have to amputate the girl’s toe and remove some other tissue. Could be a lot worse. Everything is else is doing okay.”

  “You want me to meet you there?”

  “No, I don’t know exactly how long this will take. I can either call you when I’m done or you can hang out at my place and wait for me.”

  “How ‘bout I go pick up the clothes you suggested and take them over?” This brought a little bit of a smile to Mason’s face. Cam was actually following up on the morning’s discussion.

  “That’s sounds like plan. I should be home before midnight. I hope.” Mason hung up and sat staring thoughtfully into his coffee cup.

  He knew that Cam frequently felt conflicted about their relationship. If the pilot had a different type of job, things would be easier, not simple, just easier. Mason was trying not to push too hard. In truth, he’d love for Cam to just flat out move in with him and have this whole thing turn into forever. The first item might eventually be possible. Lots of Navy guys had roommates, i.e. Keith Haverty, Cam’s previous roommate, now dead. The other part? Even hetero couples frequently didn’t last forever; he wasn’t sure what his chances were. Knowing that Cam was willing to bend a little was a step in the right direction. Mason knew he needed to bend a little more, too.

  The previous week had been horrible. He kept reaching for the phone, intending to apologize, and then stopping. What could he say that would make amends? It certainly wouldn’t have been his first relationship to hit an abrupt screeching halt. But it had hurt, like an open wound. And it wasn’t the type of pain he could just shut off. He hadn’t figured that Cam would be the one to make the first move. You didn’t get much more alpha than a Navy pilot. He decided the developing psychic bond between them had to be a contributing factor. God, last night had been intense.

  ~

  When Mason dropped heavily onto the sofa in his den, Cam fleetingly wondered how the man had made it home without running off the road. Four wheels had some benefits over two. Cam grabbed a soda from the refrigerator and went back to give it to his lover.

  “You’ve been really burning it at both ends the past couple of days,” he said, handing the soda to Mason.

  “It happens. I didn’t used to use my healing stuff as much as I do these days. Having Division P cover my back, so to speak, makes a difference.”

  “Are you going out there tomorrow?” Most Tuesdays and every other Friday, Mason spent training with Peter Vithoulkas, the primary healer for Division P.

  “Yeah, I will, but I’m thinking of telling him I’ll be late. I want to pick his brains a little for tips on the crush injury I’ve been treating.” Mason took a long drink from the soda and leaned on Cam’s shoulder.

  Cam was tense. He needed to tell his lover something and he desperately hoped it wouldn’t start another fight.

  “I, um, I bought a second motorcycle helmet. I’m kind of hoping I can convince you to come riding with me. If you don’t like it, that’s okay. But I remember one time you said you’d never even been on one. And I know it scares you, but you might like it,” he blurted out in one long breath.

  Mason laid his head back against the sofa looking at him. Oh please don’t let him freak about this, Cam prayed internally.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” Cam was stunned.

  “You’re right. It scares me, but I shouldn’t pass judgment on something I’ve never tried. If we go riding, can we stick to somewhere with a kind of low speed limit?”

  “Absolutely. We could ride up to Rudee Inlet on Pacific Avenue or something. Given the usual traffic, we’d probably never get above thirty-five.” Cam smiled at Mason, infinitely relieved. He put an arm around Mason and pulled him into a kiss.

  “You thought I was going to rip your head off again, didn’t you?” Mason asked, curling against Cam’s chest in fatigue.

  “I wasn’t sure. I was hoping maybe not.”

  “’m tryin’ to be more... flexible,” mumbled Mason. Cam could tell the healer was fighting the intense desire to just fall asleep in his arms.

  “I know. Me, too. Come on. Much as I like your sofa, your bed’s more comfortable and I have to fly in the morning.”

  ~

  “You could have begged off completely,” said Peter, handing Mason a cup of coffee.

  “Believe me, I understand the too tired to move concept.” The older healer sat down across the table. The infirmary was a quiet place that morning, no patients in residence.

  “I suppose, but I’d really like to pick your brains about the little girl I’ve been working on,” replied Mason. He'd dragged himself out of bed and off to the Division P complex in Suffolk. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, not needing the respectable shirt and tie motif he usually wore for office hours.

  “Okay. You seem to be in a much better mood today than Tuesday,” Peter commented.

  Mason couldn’t help the slight smile that curved his lips. “Yeah, I probably am.”

  “I take it you worked things out with Cam?”

  “Yes.” Mason decided it was nice to be able to give a straight answer to at least one colleague, even if he was reticent on details. Peter had been one of the very first people to be aware of the relationship between him and Cam. In a place where better than eighty percent of the personnel had at least some degree of telepathic or empathic talent, true secrets were impossible.

&n
bsp; “Good. You two belong together,” said Peter. Mason’s eyebrows raised a little. He still hadn’t quite adjusted to the absolute bluntness sometimes expressed by the other healer. “So tell me about your patient,” Peter continued.

  They spend two hours thrashing through all the case details and all the things Mason had done, both as a surgeon and as a healer. It was a sweet thing. After decades of fumbling his way through what worked and what didn’t, to have someone to openly compare strategies with was invaluable.

  “I have an idea I need you to think about,” said Peter.