Runner

by Parker Williams

  Drawing in a deep breath, I slid out an inch, then bucked my hips to reseat myself.

  “Yes, just like that,” Charlie urged. “Do it again.”

  I repeated the process a few times, each movement bringing me indescribable emotions of love and admiration for the man who was giving himself to me. Judging from the sounds Charlie was making, he was enjoying it too.

  “Okay now, if you want it to be really good, try going harder. Do the same thing you’ve been doing, but push in faster. I swear you won’t hurt me, and I think you’ll find it heightens the pleasure for both of us.”

  It could be better? Somehow I doubted that. But Charlie knew, and I trusted him. I withdrew a few inches, then shoved back in. Small quakes shuddered through my body at the realization of how absolutely amazing it felt.

  “Did you like that?” he asked, giving me a cheeky grin.

  Instead of answering, I did it again. And again. Over and over, I thrust into him, each time getting closer to climax. This time there would be no way I could hold back, and I didn’t want to. This would be my first orgasm through actual sex! Charlie must have known how close I was, because he wrapped a hand around his own swollen cock and began to jack it. It was such an erotic sight, watching him pull in time to my thrusts.

  “Getting close, Matt,” he whispered. “When I come, you’re going to shoot off like a rocket.”

  I already knew I would. Even when I was a horny teen, I’d never felt this delicious ache in my balls.

  And then Charlie was orgasming onto his stomach and chest, and the most amazing thing happened. As tight as I thought he’d been before, he bore down, locking me inside of him. I might have screamed as I came, I wasn’t sure, but I’d never felt anything like it. And all the while, Charlie was stroking my arms, my chest, telling me how much he loved me.

  When it finally subsided, my arms and legs felt like they were made of gelatin. Charlie braced me, then lowered me onto the bed, stripped off the condom, and put it into the garbage can. Then he reached over for the towel again and wiped us down. After, he pulled me into his arms, and I was surrounded by his scent.

  “That was amazing,” he whispered to me. “You sure you’ve never done that before?” My halfhearted swat to his arm had him grinning. “You can do that to me anytime,” he promised.

  “What if I can’t let you…?” My voice vanished. It wasn’t the sweet, romantic conversation I’d expected, but I had to know.

  “Oh, you’re so damned amazing. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” He stroked my cheek. “I told you, I love bottoming.” He grinned. “And you were very, very good at topping.”

  But part of the problem was his ex had never let him top. He’d said so himself. What happened when he decided he wanted the same thing with me?

  “Hey,” he said, holding my chin. “Are you thinking about Mitch?”

  There wasn’t any way I’d lie to him, so I nodded.

  “Sweetheart, listen to me very carefully. Mitch was a selfish lover. He didn’t care if I got off, only if he did. You worried about making it good for me, and you did. I loved what we did, and I want to do it again. A lot. If you think you want to try it the other way, we’ll do the same thing we did today. We’ll take it very slow, and I’ll walk you through it step-by-step. I would never do anything you were uncomfortable with.”

  And I knew it to be the truth. Just as I knew one day I would bottom for him. It might take some time, and I might have to talk to Dr. Rob about it, but I knew deep down, it would definitely happen.

  “I love you,” I said, trying to convey what my heart felt.

  “And I’m always going to love you,” he replied. “By the way, are you good and relaxed now?”

  Oh God. I was boneless. I felt like a rag doll. “Yeah, I don’t think I can move.”

  “Glad to hear it. So you know, I arranged it with Clay to have our wedding on Christmas Day.”

  I reared back. “But that’s only two weeks away!”

  “I know, but I figured if we didn’t, you’d fret about it.”

  Damn. He knew me way too well.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHARLIE WAS still asleep when Clay called early the next morning. Apparently Charlie had been busy while he was in New York, enlisting the aid of my family to get our wedding ready. I wasn’t allowed to know the details because, as Charlie said, I would fuss over every one of them. Clay was to give me my itinerary and make sure I got to every place I was supposed to go.

  “Noon on Christmas Day,” he said. “Before that, we’ll get you a new suit, go through the guest list, and have the bachelor party.”

  My hands were jittery as I thought about the fact that in two weeks, I would be getting married.

  “Am I making a mistake?” I asked, needing reassurance.

  Clay laughed. “If you have to ask….”

  “No,” I admitted. “I’m sure of how I feel about Charlie. Did he tell you how he proposed?”

  Clay huffed. “When I told Trish, she squeed like a little kid. Charlie really raised the bar. I don’t know how I’m going to top that.”

  That piqued my interest. “Oh? Are you planning on asking Trish to marry you?”

  Clay coughed. “Don’t tell her, okay? Charlie gave me two tickets to a Broadway play that she’s been raving about. Hamilton, I think she said it was. How he got them, I don’t know. He said it was probably best if I didn’t ask. I want to take her there on New Year’s Day and spend a week. He had his assistant set it up for me. If you think you’re nervous, imagine how I feel.”

  “You’ll do great,” I promised. “She’s an amazing person. And she’s getting one of the finest men I know.”

  Clay sniffled. “I owe Charlie so much. Not just for what he did for me, but what he’s done for you. For us. After all this time, I never thought I’d have a chance to have you back in my life.”

  I started to say something, but Clay cut me off.

  “And I mean, however you are. If you and Charlie want to just stay out at the cabin and continue on the way you have been, I’m for that. At least as long as you’ll allow us to visit you. It doesn’t matter how we do it, I just want to be part of your life again.”

  A heavy weight settled on my chest. Guilt over what had happened was one of the things Dr. Rob and I were working on. He assured me what I was feeling was perfectly normal and I shouldn’t allow it to control me. He reminded me I’d handled the situation as best I could, given the circumstances. When I tried to protest that if I had stayed in therapy I might be better by now, he cut me off and reminded me every journey is unique. He said I couldn’t judge myself against anyone else. If it had been Clay who was assaulted instead of me, there was no way to determine how he’d react. I tried hard to keep that lesson in mind.

  “I might need time to myself on occasion,” I told him. “Things are a lot better than they were, but there isn’t really a cure. I can only learn how to cope as best as I can. But yes, I’d really like to see you and Mom as often as possible. Trish too. Especially if she’s going to be my sister-in-law.”

  “Thank you, Matt. I’m glad to know you like her.”

  “Nah, I love her. She’s got you wrapped around her little finger. I like watching her make you squirm.”

  “Wow. All these years, and you’re still an ass,” he teased. “God, I’ve missed you so much.”

  It gave me a warm feeling to talk with Clay like this.

  “So what’s up first on the agenda? Suit fitting?”

  “Yup. We’re driving to Bangor and spending the day there. Maybe we can stop for lunch, if you feel up to it.”

  I liked the plan.

  “I do have a favor to ask of you, though.”

  “Uh-oh, here it comes.”

  “Seriously. What would you say about you and Charlie spending Christmas Eve and morning with me and Mom at her house? We’ll decorate the tree together, just like we did when we were kids. Maybe share some old memories, and make a few new ones along the
way.”

  I didn’t even have to think about that. “It sounds like a great idea.”

  Charlie strode into the room and came over to where I sat. He rubbed his hand along the back of my neck, grabbed my mug, then headed for the coffeepot.

  “My fiancé is awake. When do you want to head to Bangor?”

  “I’m off tomorrow, if you have the time.”

  “I do. Pick me up around seven?”

  Charlie came back and set a mug on the table, then sat next to me, as he sipped from his own. He put his hand on my knee and gave a squeeze. I might have squeaked a little, because Clay coughed.

  “Yeah, okay. See you tomorrow,” he said hurriedly.

  We hung up, and I turned to Charlie. “So what all do I have to worry about for this wedding?”

  He sipped his coffee and seemed completely content as he cuddled up next to me. “Not one thing. Clay is going to take you to get your suit, and everything else has been handled. All you need to do is show up to the courthouse on time. Clay said he made a special arrangement for us to get married that day, and I doubt he’s going to want anything to go wrong.”

  “I think Clay has it planned down to the minute.” I bit my lip before I said the next part. I had no idea if he’d be amenable to spending the holiday with my family. “I might have said we would spend the night at Mom’s house for Christmas Eve, then head out from there the next day. That’s okay, I hope.”

  He put down his coffee mug, turned, and looked me in the eye. “Why would you think it’s not? I love your family, and I want to be part of it. Besides, I might be able to talk your mom into pulling out some baby pictures. I’d love to see what little Matt and Clay looked like.”

  “I love you. Thank you for being you.”

  He picked up his cup and took a sip. “I don’t know how to be anyone else.”

  Smug bastard.

  AFTER WE finished shopping, where I got a dark blue suit with gray stripes throughout, Clay took me back to Mom’s house so we could talk to her about Christmas. She must have been looking out the window, because as soon as I opened the door, she came flying out of the house.

  “Matt,” she cried, rushing down the sidewalk toward me, her arms open wide.

  I stopped and waited for her, and when she reached me, I squeezed her as tight as I could. I knew she’d been baking, because I could smell the spices she’d been using and see the splotches of flour that dotted her shirt. I didn’t care. It was a sign I was home. As for the hug? I needed my mom more than I’d ever thought I could.

  “Come in,” she said, taking me by the hand.

  I looked at her as we walked and noticed things I hadn’t when we were together the last time. She’d gotten much older. Her hair, which had been a chestnut brown, now was mostly gray. Her laugh lines formed crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes. And she was thinner than I remembered. But her smile was just as bright. And her love for Clay and me was obvious in the way she fussed over us, urging us to take a seat while she went and got us something to drink.

  As we sat down with a plate of gingerbread cookies and a hot drink—I declined the coffee and had some hot apple cider instead—Clay told her about his idea for us to come together for the holiday. Suffice it to say, she was thrilled with the idea. She had us go into the attic and haul down all the boxes with the supplies that had been stored up there for so many years. I lost count of the number of things we carried, but with each box, Mom’s excitement grew.

  “This is going to be wonderful,” she declared. “Any thoughts about what you’d like for Christmas dinner?”

  Every year for Christmas, we would have chicken and stuffing, cranberry sauce that Mom made, and whipped potatoes with gravy. The house would smell absolutely amazing for the entire day as she stood in the kitchen and sliced, diced, sautéed, boiled. God, even now, I can remember waking up to those amazing scents.

  “What about what we always had?” I asked, then looked at Clay. “Would that work for you?”

  He grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  OVER THE remainder of the week, Charlie had me bouncing around with Clay and Mom, looking at things to decorate the house with, gifts we wanted to give my family, and the like. He claimed he needed time to discuss a book tour with his publisher. He said he’d asked not to go on this one, as he was getting married. Allegedly they raised a fuss about it, so he was talking to them. Curiouser and curiouser.

  Christmas Eve we arrived at my mother’s house at four in the afternoon. She had the tree set up in the living room, just like we used to do. You can’t imagine how much fun we all had decorating the thing. The tree was beautiful. Six feet tall, it stood proud as the centerpiece of the room. We had decorated it with almost a thousand twinkling lights and kitschy little baubles, but when Mom pulled out the box marked “precious,” my heart stopped. Bulbs that held pictures of her and my dad were hung on slender strings. Ornaments that Clay and I had made in school were there, ready to be placed on the tree. Every one of them brought memories. When she pulled out the star and handed it to me, I had to fight back the tears. There was no way it was the original. That got ruined when the tree got knocked over as Clay and I fought about some stupid gift. But it looked exactly like…. Shit.

  “Mom?”

  “Yes?”

  “Is this the actual star?”

  She smiled at me and took it from my hands, gazing fondly at it for a moment. Then she showed me where a few chips were missing, but also where other parts were put back together with glue or something. “I saved it,” she said, running her fingers over it. “It took a few tries before I realized it wasn’t unlike putting a puzzle together.” She twirled it. The light refracted and made tiny colored spinning dots on all of us. “I guess I could have thrown it away, but your father picked it out when you were born, and I couldn’t get rid of it. Guess I’m just sentimental that way.”

  Emotions overwhelmed me. Memories of my father, the hugs on Christmas morning that ended when he died. Our first Christmas after that was somber, and it dawned on me that’s what it was probably like for Clay and Mom after I left. I stumbled back a half step, and Charlie was there right away. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders. When Mom handed the star back to me, I offered it to my brother, but he shook his head.

  “Go ahead and put it up. This is the start of a new year for us, so it’s only fitting that you do it.”

  My hands trembled when I got up and walked to the tree. I was deathly afraid the star would fall and shatter again. It had to be perfect, because in my mind, it symbolized me coming home once again.

  “Charlie?” I whispered, unable to move. “Help me.”

  Immediately he was by my side. He held my hands to steady them and helped me put the ornament at the top of the tree.

  “It’s beautiful,” he whispered to me, right before he buried his face in my neck, kissing me gently.

  “It looks perfect,” Clay said.

  Charlie pulled me back to the couch, and the four of us sat quietly, each lost in our own thoughts and memories.

  Afterward, Mom served dinner. My stomach was still knotted, and I didn’t eat as much as I could have, but the food was delicious. When we’d finished the meal, we retired to the living room again, to bask in the presence of the tree. Mom, Clay, and I sat up until nearly midnight, catching up. When I asked Charlie to join us, he begged off, saying I needed the time to reconnect with my family, but if I needed him, he’d always be there for me.

  I sat and listened intently as Mom told me about going back to work part time as a crossing guard for the local elementary school. She only put in fifteen hours a week, but she loved having the chance to be around kids. I nudged Clay and told him he’d better get on the ball if he was going to give Mom a grandchild to spoil. He turned it back on me and said that more and more gay men were having families, and Charlie and I should consider it for ourselves. I quickly changed the subject, but the thought was planted in my head. Maybe it would be something
to talk to Charlie about at some point.

  Sitting around the kitchen table, the same one Mom had when I still lived at home, was strange. It seemed as though almost no time had passed, but the reality of the situation was still evident. We kept the conversation light, none of us seeming to want to disrupt the tentative bond we were rebuilding. That was okay with me. I was content just sitting there and simply being Matt.

  As we talked, the conversation turned to Christmases I’d missed. There wasn’t any censure on their parts, but there was a prevailing sadness that the three of us shared. When I tried, yet again, to apologize, they both stopped me and said they wanted to look to the future and hopes of many more holidays together. I knew they were trying to be nice, and I accepted the wish.

  Mom went to bed a little after midnight, reminding me that someone—not mentioning any names—would be awake early to open gifts. Clay sputtered and said he’d outgrown that phase long ago. She gave me a knowing wink, then went on to bed.

  Clay got up and made us each a cup of cocoa. He stirred in some marshmallows, a treat from when we were kids, and then we went back into the living room and sat staring at the tree. I counted the seconds until Clay couldn’t stand it anymore.

  He picked up a box and gave it a shake. “It’s going to be clothes,” he complained. “I miss the model race cars and things like that. Remember that year she gave us each a radio-controlled plane?”

  I laughed at the memory, because it had resulted in the two of us going out to play with them. We’d argued over which was fastest, who could fly higher, and then which one would come out on top if we intentionally crashed into one another. Suffice it to say, neither did. Each of us pointed at the other as bits of plastic and metal rained down, trying to shift the blame, when we both knew we had both been at fault. Mom just shook her head over the whole mess and made us clean it up.

  I finished my drink, washed out my cup, and put it back with the others. As soon as I closed the cabinet door, strong arms encircled my waist.