Cutting Cords

by Mickie B. Ashling

  “Feel good?” he asked, closing his eyes and pausing.

  “Yes, yes… don’t stop, Cole. Don’t.”

  “What do you feel?”

  “Amazing.”

  “How?”

  “Don’t ask, Cole. Just move.”

  “Like this?” he asked, grazing my prostate.

  “Yes,” I moaned, “just like that.” He repeated his movement, pegging me again, causing me to cry out and clutch at his arms.

  He looked completely blitzed out. I watched his face the entire time, caught up in his beauty as he let himself fly away. He must have been a little high on the Xanax I’d given him. I could tell that he was in another place altogether, some great place my body was sending him. Every thrust and groan took us to one more level of pleasure, seemingly without end. I wanted to remember every second, in case this never happened again.

  I felt myself on the brink when Cole whispered, “Come with me.”

  I gasped and cried out, feeling my warm spunk blossoming all over Cole’s neck and chest just as he came in a quiet trembling of his limbs.

  “Sloan,” he sighed, resting his head against my neck. “Good.”

  Good wasn’t quite the word I would have used. I was thinking more along the lines of unbelievable or out-of-this-fucking-world.

  He was heavy on my chest, but I didn’t push him off, enjoying the feel of him pressing against me. After a few minutes, I heard a soft snoring and I realized he’d fallen asleep. I had managed to chase away his tears and allowed him to forget whatever it was that was hurting so badly. It was an incredible feeling to know I had that kind of power. I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

  13

  IT WAS morning, and with it came the guilt, the fear, and all the feelings associated with dark secrets. Cole rolled over, half expecting to feel Sloan, but relieved that he was gone. His presence would have meant dealing with hard reality. It was easier to lie in bed and just daydream.

  He felt his morning boner pressing hard against the mattress, and his thoughts shifted to everything that happened last night. He groaned when he remembered what it felt like, sinking into Sloan’s body. The pleasure he’d received at the hands of his roommate was more intense than the many sessions of lovemaking he and Juliana had shared over the last few years. It was exciting and erotic and made him feel alive—yet this same pleasure could destroy everything. His father would throw himself off a bridge if he found out Cole was gay on top of everything else. The shame he would bring to his family would be unbearable. Yet, a huge part of him wanted this so badly. He had never felt as desired as he did last night. He didn’t understand it, because he knew that Juliana loved him; but her love was tainted by the illusion of who she thought he should be. She was in love with his past, the baseball player, the heir to the Fujiwara name, and everything that came with it. She’d never seen any weakness on his part and made sure that she never did. By anticipating all his needs, he never floundered in her presence. She refused to acknowledge he’d changed and was now a different man. He’d never be the Cole she had fallen in love with three years ago.

  Sloan’s feelings, on the other hand, were pure and honest. There was no agenda he had to deal with, no illusions of a happy-ever-after. It was all about now and sexual satisfaction at its finest. He didn’t have to sugarcoat it with pretty words of love because Sloan didn’t want to marry him and have babies. He wanted to fuck and suck and feel, which was all Cole could give or handle right now. Gay men were all about sex anyhow. Isn’t that what the books and the media said? They didn’t have the same feelings other people had. No need to have a family or ties that held them down. It was liberating in some ways, and he acknowledged it would be nice to be able to be like that, even for a short period of time.

  But was it really like that? He thought about Sloan and the way he’d behaved at the scene of his accident last night. He remembered how protective he’d been, and the kind and caring side that had surfaced once they were home alone in the bathroom. He remembered how he’d held him as he cried. Cole never detected one iota of pity or disgust; he’d felt safe. And that had carried over to the bedroom. Never once did he get the sense that Sloan wasn’t engaged or was all about himself. Not the actions of a man who only had sex on his brain. Sloan was generous and giving in his lovemaking, more like a man who had feelings for him, which was an impossible thought. Men didn’t love other men. They weren’t made that way.

  Relationships between men were more about sharing experiences and learning. History could attest to that. If this kind of relationship was good enough for the Greeks and Romans and even Japanese warriors, why shouldn’t it be good enough for him and Sloan? He was sure that Sloan could use his guidance. He had issues with drugs, from what he’d gleaned in the last few days, and he could help him with that. Get him clean, teach him how to eat right and respect his body.

  He could have it all, just like they did in ancient times: a family, children, and great sex at the same time. No one would have to know. He didn’t have to walk beside Sloan at a Pride parade. He wasn’t gay, Cole scoffed. If anything he was bisexual—a huge difference.

  His hand wandered over his chest and stomach. The crusty remnants of Sloan’s climax served as a fresh reminder of their sensual evening, drawing a soft moan as he felt himself already hard. He was already halfway there just from the physical act of waking up, but thinking of Sloan and the way he moved underneath him made him grow harder still. What was it about Sloan that opened up this window into a world he’d left behind years ago? He couldn’t figure out what the attraction was. Sloan wasn’t built like a bodybuilder, from the little he could see and feel. He was all sinew and muscle and parts of him even felt rough and scaly, almost as if he were malnourished. He could definitely use some mentoring in the food department. But his mouth was spectacular and could do wicked things to him. He touched him in ways that made him feel alive, and when he looked closely enough to see into the gunmetal-gray eyes, he felt that Sloan had answers no one else had. It was irrational and unrealistic, but there was a connection on some primal level.

  I WALKED into the room and saw him sitting on the bed. He looked up when he heard me and grinned. It was a huge relief because I’d expected another scene like the last one. In fact, I was bracing myself for a fight or a round of self-recrimination, at least, and so this smile was a refreshing sight.

  “Hey,” he said softly. “Come here.”

  I had on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt I’d thrown on quickly after leaving his bed earlier. I was uncomfortable walking around naked, and I didn’t want him to see the scars on my legs. He hadn’t mentioned them so far, even though I was pretty sure he’d felt them; however, one look at the marks would tell him I had all kinds of issues, which I didn’t feel like getting into right now. We’d have enough to discuss without throwing my cutting into the mix.

  I moved over to him and stood in between his legs. He pulled me close and wrapped his arms around my waist, pressing his face to my body and holding me tight. I was a little shocked but delighted nonetheless. Cole was an enigma I was just beginning to explore. I bent down and kissed his lips, loving the way he opened up for me. He slipped his tongue into my mouth and outlined my lips gently, making my stomach flop and my cock swell. I sighed and responded with my own tongue, meeting his easily while I ran both hands through his smooth black hair, loving the feel of it.

  Everything about him was a huge turn-on, so I voiced no objections when he pulled me onto the bed with him. I lay prone on his naked body, feeling his erection pressing against mine. “Take off your pants,” he commanded in a husky voice that made my cock twitch.

  I shoved my sweats down and kicked them away. We began to grind against each other, all the while kissing and making incoherent noises. I could feel his need as our fluids mingled, allowing us to slide back and forth easily. He held my ass and squeezed, pressing me hard against him. It was fast and frantic, this desire that roared through us, like a blast of air rippi
ng through a wind tunnel. We were desperate to come, rubbing and humping like teenagers on our first date.

  “Sloan,” he growled as he came in hot spurts, triggering my own orgasm, which I released all over him. The room was redolent with our smell, the pungent odor of musk and male arousal enveloping us. Little by little our bodies began to relax, the thudding of combined heartbeats loud in my ears.

  “Good morning,” I said, boneless and out of breath.

  He chuckled. “No kidding.”

  “Did you sleep well?” I asked him, knowing what he’d answer. He hadn’t stirred all night.

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “No need to thank me. I enjoyed every minute of it.”

  “Even the pitiful crying jag?”

  “Hey,” I said, kissing him quickly, “none of that, okay?”

  He wrapped his arms around me and sighed, “What am I going to do with you?”

  “You don’t have to do anything.”

  “Good.”

  “What do you mean ‘good’?” The change in his tone prompted my question.

  “Well, I wasn’t planning on running out and buying you a ring.”

  I pulled away from him and frowned. “I never expected that.”

  “I know. It’s all about fucking with your kind, isn’t it?”

  “My kind?” The words came out slowly as my hackles started to rise.

  “Yeah, you gays. It’s all about sex, isn’t it?”

  “Us gays?” I sneered a little. “I seem to recall you sucking on my cock, or was that just a dream?”

  “Just because we had sex doesn’t mean I’m gay, Sloan.”

  “Oh, right. How silly of me to make that assumption.”

  “Stop being an ass. You know I’m not gay, I’m practically engaged, for God’s sake, and I have every intention of marrying Juliana.”

  “Whoa.” I pushed away from him and groped for my pants, sliding them up my legs before standing in plain sight. “You can keep on lying to me and to yourself, but you really shouldn’t lie to her.”

  “Who’s lying? Did you actually think I’d break it off with her for you?”

  “Fuck no!”

  “So what’s this all about?”

  “I don’t know, Cole. You tell me.” I stared at him. He was a stranger again, the stern and judgmental man I’d met the other night. Gone was the tender lover I’d just come all over.

  “I don’t see why it has to be anything formal. Why do we have to give this a title or a category?”

  “This?” I was now thoroughly confused.

  “Yeah, us… you and me. Why can’t we just have sex when we’re in the mood and not make a big deal out of it?”

  “Cole?”

  “Really, Sloan, two men having sex doesn’t necessarily mean a lifetime commitment. I mean, the ancients did it for hundreds of years without classifying it as gay or straight. It’s just another form of sexual release.”

  I was looking at him and wondering what part of “gay” he didn’t get. The man made no sense. “So, what exactly are you saying?”

  “What I’m saying is that there’s no reason why we can’t continue to have great sex and still go on with our lives as we know it. I can continue to see Juliana and eventually marry her. You just do your thing.”

  “And what’s that thing?”

  “Be gay. Fuck around but wear a condom. Be safe and don’t bring home any diseases.”

  “And you’re okay with me fucking other guys, and you, whenever you’re in the mood to have a man-on-man encounter?” I was starting to shake, I was so angry; I wanted to punch him.

  “Why are you flipping out? It’s not like we love each other or anything,” Cole snorted.

  “Right!” I headed for the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. My hands were balled into fists. Cole had just destroyed one of the most amazing nights of my life with his twisted theory. What the hell was he thinking? He was bent, like a three-dollar bill, and he had the nerve and fucking audacity to call this a sexual release? Fuck that!

  I sat on the toilet and pushed off my pants. My legs were starting to heal, the cuts scabbing over nicely. I touched them like a drug addict reaching for heroin and ripped them off with my nails. The pain was intense and flowed through me, masking everything else. The blood appeared right on cue, bright red and pulsing with my heartbeat.

  14

  “COLE, IT was one incident. You need to try again,” John spoke gently from his side of the desk. He’d been sympathetic and a little concerned when Cole first told him about the accident, but now he was being insistent again. “You’ve got to get back on the horse, son.”

  “No! I refuse.” Cole had taken a cab to the Lighthouse, unwilling to venture into the subway again. He should have never mentioned anything to John because he wasn’t in the mood to hear this pep talk.

  “It was a fluke, Cole. This would have never happened if you had a dog.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “He would have pushed you out of the way.”

  “You don’t know that for a fact.”

  “I’m not one hundred percent positive, but I’m sure he would have given you a little indication if something was wrong.”

  “Well, I’ll have to think about it.”

  “I’ll go with you again, and this time I’ll walk you home. Maybe we can have dinner?”

  “My roommate has plans,” Cole said, remembering that Sloan had mentioned Emily would be in town and staying over. “I’m not so sure we’d have the kitchen to ourselves.”

  “Then we can walk over to a neighborhood café or something. I’m not fussy.”

  “No, but you’re pushy.”

  “Cole,” John said, his voice becoming more impatient, “someone’s got to push you.”

  “I guess.”

  “How are things going with Sloan?” he asked, changing the subject suddenly.

  Cole was unprepared for the question and his voice reflected his discomfort. “Fine.”

  “You don’t sound fine.”

  “What do you mean? I’m perfectly fine.”

  “Aren’t you two getting along?”

  Cole wanted to laugh and say they were getting along far too well, but he wasn’t prepared to talk about it. Especially since Sloan had retreated from him after listening to Cole’s speech on mentoring and wanting to have it all. Sloan had accused him of dishonesty and hadn’t touched him since. He’d been formal and distant and Cole was starting to lose it; however, he wasn’t about to make the first move.

  “Cole?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You haven’t answered my question.”

  “What question?” Cole’s thoughts were still on Sloan and the chill that had settled in their apartment.

  “Have you told your roommate about your eyesight?”

  “Absolutely not!”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want him to hover over me.”

  “I’m pretty sure he won’t, from what you’ve told me about him. The kid doesn’t sound like Florence Nightingale.”

  “He’s not a kid!”

  “Oh. Well, the man doesn’t sound like the most caring person in the world. I’m sure his behavior toward you will not change.”

  Cole thought about how gentle Sloan was with the washcloth after his fall in the subway. He thought about how easily he’d slipped into the role of caretaker, and he wanted to disagree with John’s assessment of Sloan, but it would have opened up the discussion to a topic he wasn’t willing to share at this time.

  “Let’s not talk about Sloan anymore, okay?”

  “Whatever you say, Cole. Shall we get going?”

  “Already?”

  “Yeah. I’m hungry, aren’t you?”

  “Sure, I could eat.”

  EMILY WAS exactly what I needed to take my mind off Cole and his bullshit. I’d been in a miserable funk ever since the morning after we had sex. Listening to him talk about the fucking Greeks and their boy toys was surre
al. He didn’t get why I was so upset. I couldn’t very well tell him that I had expected more from him. I wasn’t looking for a declaration of love, but an acknowledgement that there was something special happening between us would have been nice.

  But, no, Cole went on and on about the bloody history of Japanese warriors and their samurai twinks. He was in denial at the highest level, and I wasn’t about to help him change his mind or get a grip on reality. That wasn’t my job. He’d have to figure this out on his own, but in the meantime, I wasn’t going to make myself available to him. If he wanted to get his dick sucked, he could ask his bloody girlfriend to do it for him. I had every intention of moving on and finally hooking up with Max. Amazingly, he still wanted to see me, even after I’d stood him up the other night.

  Emily had arrived with a duffel bag full of clothes and was bursting with questions about my life since I moved. It had been a long time since we’d last seen each other and so we spent the first hour just catching up. She’d changed her hairstyle, opting for a shorter, easier look, from what I could tell, and had ditched her glasses.

  “You must be getting laid,” I accused.

  “Moi?”

  “You look happy, Em.”

  She laughed, looking prettier than ever before. “I just started seeing someone.”

  “Where did you meet?”

  “Dan is also into theater. We met in a class.”

  “Good for you.”

  “It’s the beginning, Sloan, so it’s fresh and exciting. We’ll see how it goes.” She leaned into me and gave me a hug. “How is your love life?”

  “It’s a work in progress,” I replied, wondering whether I should say anything, but since I had already told her about that one night when Cole and I were high on weed, I decided to spill my guts, and so I told her what happened a few nights ago.

  “I’m sorry, Sloan. He really sounds like he’s got a lot of issues with his sexuality.”

  “He’s just odd, Emily. He can be nice one minute and a piece of shit the next. I’m having a hard time reading him.”