Tap-Dancing the Minefields

by Lyn Gala

  “You don’t have to tell me,” Tank said softly. He had thought of Lev as being the mentally healthy one in the relationship, but maybe they were all several screws shy of a carpenter’s belt.

  “One of the pieces was a transport—something that scooped us up and dropped us in a pit on a ship. It started filling with water, and I thought we were going to die. In hindsight, I suspect the liquid was some sort of disinfectant. From there, we were taken to holding rooms where slaves waited.”

  “Did you see them? The aliens?”

  Lev shook his head. “I never did. John said that some areas of the ship had avatars controlled by aliens running the gladiator-style fights, but in our part of the ship, some of the modified humans acted as jailors. Without Clyde, I wouldn’t have survived. I saw people mangled, limbs ripped off, and they were offered only basic medical care and then thrown back into the holding rooms to either live or die. They would scream in pain, and sometimes the other humans….”

  Tank reached up and rested his palm against Lev’s cheek. He leaned in until their foreheads touched and closed his eyes. He could imagine how this ended—he knew what he would do if he saw someone dying slowly and in pain.

  “I stopped sympathizing with aliens fairly quickly after that,” Lev said. “Clyde was there, and John grew up in those holding rooms, but sometimes I’m alone in my own head, remembering the people on those ships. And I feel bad, because when the guards would come for fighters, Clyde would stand in front and shield me from the pick, and I was so scared that they would bring him back broken and battered or that they wouldn’t bring him back at all. And when we got off the ship, I thought for sure that he was going to hate me because he’d suffered for me.” Lev fell silent, and Tank waited. Sometimes words were hard to get out. He knew that. He also understood why Lev had called out the colonel’s name when they were in that closet. The stillness grew.

  Tank whispered, “I get it. I was scared to come back here. I got tangled up in my own head, and I started to think they hated me. It turns out that Mrs. Peterson is the only one who actually hates me, but it’s so easy to believe everyone will. I don’t feel like someone that others would want to be around.”

  Lev took a deep breath. “Then I’ll have to remember to tell you how much I want you around all the time.” His voice was back to normal, but now Tank thought he saw cracks in the illusion. Lev was a walking contradiction. He seemed to put all his emotions on display, but he didn’t. He looked boyish, but he was nearly forty. Tank hid behind jokes and immaturity, but Lev had his own version of that same camouflage.

  “You may decide you don’t want me around at some point. I’m kinda annoying.”

  Lev chuckled. “I passed kinda several stops back. I’m not going to remember any significant dates. Birthdays, anniversaries, dinner engagements—don’t expect me to remember even one.”

  “I don’t understand about a quarter of the words you use.”

  “I won’t notice that you’re mad at me unless you sit down and use the word ‘mad,’ and if I’m looking at an engineering book at the time, I still won’t notice.”

  Tank started laughing. “We’re losers.”

  “Well, yeah. I thought that was a given. However, I know something we’re really good at.” Tank sucked in a startled breath when Lev’s fingers slipped under the hem of his shirt. Calling his lover a loser had never worked as foreplay in the past, but then again, Lev came with a whole different set of rules.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “IT’S NOT your job to make me feel better,” Tank said.

  Lev pressed against Tank’s thigh. “I don’t want to feel alone. I don’t want you to feel alone.” Lev shimmied his body and kissed Tank on the lips. “You see yourself as someone stuck here, but you impress John and you survived Clyde’s version of supportive. What do I have to do to convince you this is about more than some obligation or alien hormones or even just about sex? Although the sex is good.”

  “I haven’t brushed my teeth,” Tank said self-consciously.

  “I lived in a slave ship with no toothbrushes for six months. I’m fine with it.” Lev sounded almost amused. “And you keep changing the subject, so I’m going to keep telling you that you belong until you believe it and don’t change the subject.” Lev pressed another soft kiss on Tank’s mouth, cutting off his protest. Then Lev’s hand slid down under the waistband of Tank’s pants.

  “Okay. I kinda like the sound of that.” Tank sucked air through his teeth as Lev sent his clever fingers questing deeper down into his pants.

  “I hope so.” Lev peppered kisses down the side of Tank’s neck. Tank tried to pull Lev closer, but the man was stronger than he looked.

  “Shhhh. Let me,” Lev whispered as he shifted his weight so he was straddling one of Tank’s legs, pinning him down. He slid open the zipper on Tank’s uniform pants and teasingly ran a finger over the cloth-covered cock. Tank arched his back and groaned.

  “Oh, God.”

  “Nope, just me.” Then Lev fisted Tank’s cock. All thought vanished as the pain and confusion that ruled Tank gave way to lust, lust, more lust, and maybe even a little love. This man saw Tank in all his emotionally pathetic and snotty glory and still wanted him.

  Tank clutched Lev’s shoulder, wishing he could hold on forever, his body hot with sweat gathering where skin touched skin. Still, Lev moved with painful slowness. He kissed down Tank’s neck, unbuttoning one button at a time while kissing the newly exposed skin with such reverence that Tank writhed. He should be doing something. He should be returning the soft touches so that Lev got something out of this—but when he reached out, Lev twisted out of the way, his body undulating as he moved down Tank’s torso, exposing him.

  Once Tank’s shirt was fully open, Lev rested his palm against Tank’s cheek.

  When Lev looked into Tank’s eyes, Tank wondered what the other man saw. Some days Tank wondered if people couldn’t see all the cracks and fears right under the surface—if they couldn’t look in his eyes and trace the damage. But then Lev leaned in for another soft kiss.

  Tank held Lev tighter until the kiss turned feverish and fervent.

  Lev pressed his body even closer, his hands cradling Tank’s face as he started to rock gently forward. “You’re perfect,” Lev said.

  Tank wasn’t one for talking during sex—he could barely manage to follow the plot of a sitcom and talk at the same time—but he did manage to say, “Bullshit. I’m all screwed up.”

  “We all are. You admit it, and that makes you perfect.”

  Tank opened his mouth to protest, but Lev kissed him. Hard. By the time Lev pulled back, Tank was panting. Lev’s fair skin blushed a shade of pink, and Tank could feel his own body giving off heat. Instead of going in for another round of self-hate, Tank blurted the first thing that came to his mind. “You’re beautiful, and I want you more than anything.”

  Lev’s honeyed smile was so slow and sweet that Tank was mesmerized. After that, Lev squirmed backward so that he could suck at the hollow of Tank’s neck before murmuring endearments. The words drifted over Tank. His cock throbbed, but Lev inched downward, kissing every spot. He centimetered downward, he millimetered, and Tank was dying by the time Lev kissed the soft skin right below Tank’s belly button.

  Lev mouthed Tank’s cock through his cotton boxers—the sucking sound obscene in the silence of the room. Then he slid his sweaty palms up Tank’s sides before he sucked the cock head. Tank cried out and clutched the edges of the mattress. If he didn’t, he was going to fly apart and lose gravity and do something stupid like fall off the earth altogether.

  Lev took the opportunity to pull Tank’s underwear down and shimmy out of his own shirt, tossing it aside. In the silence, Tank could hear his own labored breathing. He tried to sit up, tried to be a good lover and return the favor by touching Lev everywhere until the man lost all ability to think. But Lev pushed him down with hot hands, then swallowed Tank’s cock. He hummed, sending shivers through Tank’s whole
body.

  “I… oh, crap. Lev….” Tank flailed as he tried to warn Lev or hold his orgasm or something, but he came with a wave of pleasure that made every muscle stiffen as he cried out.

  Lev gentled his sucking, but he continued to mouth Tank’s cock as it softened. Tank trembled, his whole body worn out as if he’d just run a marathon, but at least he could think straight. “I am so sorry. I tried to warn you.” Propping himself up on one elbow, Tank reached down and caught Lev’s arm, urging him to come closer.

  “What?”

  “I came when you were….” Tank blushed.

  Lev grinned. “That was my goal. I like giving blowjobs, I like you, and I like swallowing. Did I make my point?”

  “Um. I think so. I’m not really sure, because I had brain leakage pretty early on,” Tank said. “I could return the favor.”

  Lev caught his hand. “It’s not a contest or a case of givebacks. Do whatever feels good.”

  “I can think of one or two things I’m anxious to try.” The lethargy that followed a really good orgasm pulled at him, but Tank wanted to touch and explore and feel Lev’s body orgasming beneath him.

  Lev settled onto his back, and Tank opened his pants. For a second he debated teasing Lev the way Lev had teased him, but Lev’s cock already looked painfully hard, and his underwear had a spot where the precome had soaked into the cotton. Taking pity on him, Tank slipped a hand down into Lev’s underwear and started carefully stroking him.

  Tank didn’t have any oil, and friction burns on the penis were a bad idea—something he had learned firsthand—so he moved slowly, gently rubbing the hard cock and letting Lev set the pace as he started thrusting up. After reaching down farther, Tank explored the shape of Lev’s heavy balls. Then he shifted and ran his thumb over the head of Lev’s cock. Lev’s expression twisted into grotesque shapes, and before Tank could do anything else, Lev came with a shout, his come caught between Tank’s hand and the underwear.

  Lev panted and lay with his eyes mostly closed. Settling down next to Lev, Tank wiped his hand on the sheet and made a mental note to figure out how to change the sheets before the colonel came back.

  As the minutes passed, Tank rested with his arm over Lev’s bare stomach, sweat gathering between them and legs tangled. “I do want you,” Lev said softly. “You screwed up by taking off, but that doesn’t mean you don’t belong. I’ve never seen anyone fit in so fast.”

  Tank figured that probably had more to do with the fact that the base loved Lev. As far as the support staff was concerned, Lev was the little brother—the absentminded professor they had to take food to or he’d forget to eat. He was the mad scientist who stayed up all night saving the world. That last one applied to Sadler too, but Major Sadler didn’t really come off as little-sisterish to anyone, with the possible exception of John, who probably thought of all of them as ridiculously helpless.

  It was a long time before Lev spoke again. “I don’t think you can do this job—fighting bad guys—without crying. Without hurting,” he said softly.

  “I know,” Tank admitted. He angled his face so he could smell the soap from Lev’s hair and the coffee musk of his body. Even if he’d only known Lev a short time, his scent unwound the knot of fears in Tank’s stomach.

  “I rushed into that room. When we were taken, I was the one so excited by a new toy that I didn’t stop and think.” Lev let his voice trail off. Guilt climbed into the bed with them.

  Tank whispered, “I didn’t get help. I keep thinking of all the things I could have done differently. I could have told the police that Roger was getting into Satanism and he’d called me to brag about his plans to kill Ellie. I could have reported her missing. I could have called in an anonymous tip. But none of that occurred to me at the time. And the fact that these were demons made everything feel impossible, because one word to the wrong person and we’d all be in insane asylums.”

  “We’re a pair.” For a long time, they lay in the silence with fingers exploring tiny islands of skin. Lev stroked Tank’s forehead and the side of his face. Tank trailed his fingers over Lev’s side and the perfect angle of his hipbone.

  “I’m glad we can talk about this.” Lev moved his hand up to rest on Tank’s chest, and Tank tightened his hold around Lev’s waist. “I get it, you know. Oh, Clyde is always telling me I don’t understand, but I know you’re hurting even if I can’t understand your specific genus and species of hurt.”

  Tank smiled at Lev. “Hey, I figure no one knows anyone else’s pain. I guess it comes down to the fact that I figure if I found someone who doesn’t mind me falling apart, I’ll hang on to him. And it kinda helps that I love his sense of humor and his loyalty and the way he wants to have conversations during sex, which is not going to be a good time to talk to me about anything you plan on asking me to remember later.”

  Lev laughed. “As long as you realize I’m going to fall apart at some point too,” he warned.

  “Yep. It’s a sort of tit-for-tat thing, only without any working tits,” Tank agreed.

  Lev snorted with laughter so explosively that he sprayed spit.

  “Say it, don’t spray it,” Tank quipped.

  “God, I’m in love with a twelve-year-old,” Lev complained, but he did it in a fond tone of voice.

  Tank shrugged. “Everyone has their flaws. Apparently immaturity and post-traumatic stress are mine.”

  “Obsessive behaviors, an utter inability to recognize social signals, and insecurity are mine,” Lev offered up.

  “Then we definitely need to stay together and save all other gay men from a really bad relationship, huh?”

  “That’s logical,” Lev agreed. When he chuckled, Tank could feel the breath against the small hairs of his arm.

  Again a silence fell over them, and Tank let his fingers drift across Lev’s body. This was comfortable. But as much as Tank wanted to curl up inside this one moment and never come out again, he had to deal with life.

  “If I don’t call Marie and Zhu and let them know I’m okay, they’re going to make Aldrich’s life miserable,” Tank said.

  Lev didn’t answer right away, but the fingers that had been playing with Tank’s hair paused. “I brought your cell phone. It’s in the drawer on your side of the table. Do you want me to leave?”

  “Actually, I was hoping you’d stick around in case I decided to have another crying jag.”

  Lev’s fingers moved again. “I can do that.”

  Even though Tank knew he should get the phone and start making calls before his friends had a chance to make their own assumptions, he hesitated. This moment was perfect. No Army, no aliens, no conspiracies—just him and Lev in a bed together. This little cowardly part of Tank wanted to live inside this instant; however, since he couldn’t, he rolled away from Lev and grabbed the phone. As he dialed, he felt Lev press up against his back and Lev’s arm slip around his waist. He could do this. He could face the world.

  Chapter Twenty

  STILL LYING in bed, Tank texted Zhu. After a second he got back a terse reply from Marie. “Huh.” Tank felt his stomach roil a little.

  Lev rubbed his back. “What’s wrong?”

  “I just….” Tank turned his phone around for Lev to see. “Marie has Zhu’s phone.” At least she’d been nice enough to put her name so Tank knew who was blowing him off.

  Lev caught Tank’s hand and angled it so he could see. Marie had been a little rude, although “whatever” wasn’t technically the same as “fuck off.”

  “That’s less than enthusiastic.”

  Tank sighed. “It’s complicated. And when I say that, I mean in a horribly teenager-emo sort of way.”

  “You had a crush on Marie?” Lev guessed.

  For a brilliant man, sometimes Lev got it completely wrong. “Gay. As in I like boys, not girls,” Tank said in a singsong voice as he sat up.

  Lev swung around so he could sit on the bed next to Tank. “You are clearly not a fan of the Kinsey scale, but can I just say that the
re are lots of gay men who, especially when they’re young, fall for a woman. A girl can hit a lot of your hot buttons, even if the gender is wrong. I have known more than one otherwise-gay man who had a Xena infatuation.”

  “Who’s Xena?” Tank really wished he’d paid more attention in school—he never seemed to know all these historic people, and it made him feel a little stupid.

  For a second, Lev stared at Tank blankly. “Yeah, never mind. I’ll show you videos later,” Lev said. “But if it isn’t some crush, what’s the problem?”

  “Marie was friends with Ellie.” Tank stopped, not sure he wanted to open this can of worms. “Ellie was in love with Roger, but I didn’t see it. It led to the girls thinking I was being an ass about Ellie and Roger and their great romance. And this feels so unimportant compared with the world being invaded.”

  “Hey, that’s rough stuff—a love triangle.”

  “I guess.” Tank hadn’t realized he’d been in one at the time, though. “Roger told me he didn’t want people to know about us because he wasn’t ready to be openly gay. I guess he told Ellie that I had a crush, and he wanted time to let me down slowly.” Tank couldn’t exactly blame Marie for taking Ellie’s side even if, at the time, Tank hadn’t realized there were sides.

  Lev grimaced. “Given how difficult adolescent relationships are, I should say something about how Roger was probably trying to figure himself out, but actually I think he was an ass.”

  Tank shrugged. He was glad that Roger hadn’t really loved him, since Roger had used a spell that required him to sacrifice his love. But at the same time, he wished Roger had loved him—because then Ellie would have survived. Between the gay stuff and the human-sacrifice stuff, Tank didn’t know what he should feel. “I guess he wasn’t okay with being gay, or maybe he was just more straight than gay all along.”

  “I think the word you’re avoiding is bisexual,” Lev said. He rested his hand on Tank’s thigh. “However, that’s no excuse for leading you both on.”