All Cocks Stories Box Set Volume 2

by Smith,T. M.

  Fingers digging into the carpet, Beau crawled across his living room floor like a toddler that couldn’t support his own weight yet. Reaching the couch, he turned and fell back against it, his arm shooting out, fingers landing on the cold metal of the drawer handle. He jerked the drawer of the coffee table with enough force to pull it all the way out. The contents of the drawer landed on the carpeted floor beside him and Beau quickly grabbed the bottle of valium. It had been almost a year since he last had to twist the cap off the bottle of pills that promised sweet oblivion, even if only for a few hours.

  Craning his head to stare at the clock on the microwave until the numbers that flashed made since, he did the math—roughly two more hours before William came over. Fishing one tablet from the bottle and splitting it in half, he swallowed half a tablet dry, letting his head fall back onto the worn out cushion of his couch. If nothing else, he would be comfortably numb when William ran from his apartment screaming after Beau told him the truth. Besides, one tablet wasn’t stout enough to make him incoherent, so half a tab wouldn’t do much more than calm him for the oncoming storm.

  Beau sat staring at the clock on the wall for the first hour, dragging his ass up off the floor when he had to take a piss. The valium took the edge off his fear, his mind free of the foggy haze from earlier when he’d had the panic attack. He chuckled, smiling at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. “Well, dis is a fortunate development.” He stripped and climbed into the shower to wash away the sticky layer of sweat that had bathed him while he was losing his mind. The thought occurred to him; why not dress to impress?

  Wrapping a towel around his waist, Beau hurried into his bedroom pulling out the well-worn jeans and slate blue Henley that he knew were William’s favorites, quickly putting them on. The hour he’d spent mind-melding with Spock, Yoda and Jimi Hendrix in a fucking purple haze left him flustered when he realized there wasn’t time to do everything he wanted to before William arrived. His hand trembled and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

  The soft knock at the door brought on a renewed, albeit brief, sense of panic. His hair was still wet, hanging down his back darkening the blue of his shirt as the wetness seeped through to dampen his skin. “Oh well, fuck it.” Dropping the brush, he shook his hair out, ran his hands through it then flipped the bathroom light off on his way out.

  Another knock, a little louder, met Beau’s ears as he reached for the doorknob. What he saw when he swung the door open made his head spin again. William stood looking up at him through hooded eyes, a small smile on his lips. He wore a pair of loose-fitting black jeans, a plain white T with a pocket and a pair of ankle boots. Beau swore he could hear the cotton in the shirt screaming in agony, the material stretched so tautly across William’s toned arms and chest.

  “Well?” William prodded.

  “Huh?” Beau’s brow scrunched in confusion.

  William laughed, the sound resonating from the bottom of Beau’s toes to the tips of his fingers, making everything in between tingle. “I asked if you were going to invite me in.”

  “Oh, shit. Yeah, sorry, come in.” Beau moved to the side so William could step into the apartment, closing the door and leaning against it for a few seconds.

  “So, what do you have to tell me that is so important?” William asked, that simple smile still painted on his face. It made him look innocent and delicious.

  Beau pushed off the door, reaching William in two short steps, invading his space and running the palms of his hands up William’s arms. He clinched his jaw to stop from grinning like an idiot when the man in front of him shivered, just from the brush of Beau’s hands on his skin. Continuing the path across William’s shoulders, up each side of his neck, finally stopping when he was holding that gorgeous face in his hands, Beau leaned close enough that William would feel the words he said.

  “We talk, but first.” The kiss started out soft and gentle, almost hesitant. Beau’s fingers wound around to the nape of William’s neck, holding his head in place as he deepened the kiss, ravaging his mouth. He poured every emotion he was feeling into the kiss, just in case it was the last one they shared. Both men sighed when they were forced to separate for fear of passing out due to lack of oxygen.

  William rested his head on Beau’s chest, his own heaving, that kiss leaving him breathless. “Wow,” was the only word that sprang to mind.

  Beau’s chest vibrated when he laughed. “Yeah, you can say dat again.”

  He leaned back, looking up into Beau’s sparkling eyes and smiling. “Wow,” he whispered, running his thumb over Beau’s bottom lip.

  “Jesus. When you look at me like dat, you make me want tings I’ve no right to ask.” Beau’s eyes darkened –the blue almost completely awash with need, his thick Cajun accent even more pronounced than normal. He shook his head, gently pushing William toward the couch. “Sit, I go get us a couple beers.”

  Beau took the few minutes in the kitchen away from William’s sight to adjust himself, the zipper of his jeans trying to imprint its design on his half-hard dick. He grabbed a couple beers then stuck his head in the freezer, trying to cool off and calm down. Quietly creeping back into the living room, he enjoyed the few spare moments he had by taking in his fill of the buff body stretched out on his couch.

  William was thumbing through the photo album Beau kept under the glass top coffee table. There were pictures of his family, his home, Alma and Izaiah. William looked up and smiled when Beau cleared his throat. “Oh hey, I hope you don’t mind. I was hoping to find naked pictures of you in the bathtub when you were three. You know, the ones every mom on the planet feels some insane need to take and share with every guy you date until the end of time.”

  William took the offered beer, and the kiss Beau gave leaning over him before he threw himself on the couch beside William. “You won’t find no pictures of me like dat in dere, Cher.”

  “Cher. That means…baby?” William asked.

  Beau nodded. “Baby or darling.”

  “I like Cher.” Grinning ear to ear, William leaned over and kissed Beau on the cheek before pulling his legs up under him and turning the next page in the album. As he flipped through the pages, Beau pointed out who the people in the images were, how he knew them, even told a few stories that went with some of the crazier looking ones. There were several pictures of a younger version of Beau with a stunning black man by his side. Though William had never met him, he felt like he knew Izaiah in a way, Beau spoke so fondly of him.

  “You were so young. And the two of you look so in love, if you don’t mind me asking, how did he die?” William laid his hand over the picture, unintentionally, but Beau was still grateful for it. If he had to sit there and stare at his first love while telling the person he was falling in love with now all their deepest, darkest secrets, he’d prefer to not have to look at Izzie’s smiling face while he did.

  Well, if that’s not a segue to the truth, I don’t know what is.

  He didn’t answer right away, instead sitting and staring into William’s eyes, for what he didn’t know. Absolution? Understanding? He probably needed to actually say the word before begging for forgiveness.

  “AIDS,” Beau whispered.

  Chapter 13 | Facing the Music

  William sat on the couch next to Beau in stunned silence. Did he just say…AIDS?

  It took a few minutes for his brain to catch up, eyes going wide. “Wait, if he—are you, sick?”

  Beau shook his head, a deep sadness taking root in the depth of his eyes. “No Cher, but I am HIV positive.”

  “There’s a diff…” William was about to ask, There’s a difference? But he caught himself, shaking his head. “Sorry, I know better, I’m just…this is a lot to take in. I’m going to need a minute.”

  Setting the album on the table in front of him, William stretched his legs out and stood, walking around the coffee table and pacing, much like Beau had done earlier in the evening, anticipating this very reaction from Willia
m. “You gonna wear a hole in the carpet, Cher.” Beau spoke softly.

  William stopped and turned to face him, his face awash of emotions. Confusion, fear, pain and then the one Beau had dreaded seeing on that beautiful face most, anger. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner, Beau?”

  “Would it have made a difference?” Beau asked the question, though he really didn’t want to know the answer.

  “No…maybe, I…I don’t know Beau, but you still should have told me. You should have given me some kind of choice before I started falling in love with you!” William shouted. Jesus, this is fucked. All William wanted was a man to love, a man to call home, this man sitting in front of him telling him he had one of the deadliest viruses to ever hit mankind.

  Oh lord, the room was spinning and William found it hard to breathe. Did someone stick a pin in the earth so it would stop spinning? Better yet, did someone suck all the air out of the room? He bent forward, resting his hands on his knees and breathing in through his nose, out through his mouth, in, out, in, out.

  “Cher?” he could hear the denim Beau wore dragging across the cushions of the couch.

  “Don’t!” His head shot up; sure enough, Beau was sitting on the edge of the couch, poised to stand. “You just sit your ass right there on that couch and give me a minute to work out all the insanity bouncing around in my brain Beauregard Boudreaux!” William pointed an angry finger at Beau, eyes squinted, nostrils flaring.

  Beau froze, hands slowly lifting in surrender. His full name, that was bad, very bad. He eased back onto the couch. William fought the urge to pick something up and throw it at his head when he noted the slight twitch at the corner of Beau’s mouth. He looked away, pacing in the small space between the coffee table and the flat screen TV once again.

  “Wait.” William rounded on him. “That’s why you freaked out when I bit your lip. Why you stood ten feet away that night at the bar and jacked off, not letting me touch you.” He knew his tone of voice sounded accusatory, but then he was pretty damn sure he had every right to be curt. Beau nodded sheepishly. “And what, exactly, would you had done if I said yes the night you told me I could stay with you, Beau?”

  “I… I didn’t mean to even ask dat Cher. My mouth done got goin before I could rein it in.” Beau managed to maintain eye contact as he spoke.

  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner, Beau? You had plenty of chances. Did you think me selfish enough to walk away? Is that how you see me? Fuck, this is…this is fucked.” William was rambling, holding a conversation with himself. His thoughts may have formed as questions, but Beau was confident they were all rhetorical, so he didn’t bother answering.

  William was angry, pissed in fact. How could Beau keep this from him? The first few months, yes, that was acceptable. Back then Beau was still trying to push him away, and at least now William knew why. Anxiety and fear were holding a cage match in his gut at that very moment. Was this some kind of sick, cosmic joke? Years and years of searching for a man that could be everything William wanted, finding all those qualities and then some in Beau, only to have him snatched away from him before he could tighten his grasp? “Fuuuuck!” William growled. This was wildly unfair. His mind was racing, thoughts and feelings speeding by on fast forward, nothing holding still long enough for him to grab.

  How many years do we have before his health starts to deteriorate? Can we even have sex the normal way? Jesus you’re stupid, Willie, of course you can have sex, with condoms and precautions… but what precautions? Can he ever truly love me with his whole heart if part of his is buried in the fucking ground in Louisiana? WHY DIDN’T HE TELL ME SOONER?

  He couldn’t even think straight anymore, the insanity taking over and squashing any possibility of rational though. “I…can’t, even…” William was stuttering.

  “Is okay Cher, I understand, I really do. It hurts, but I understand if you can’t stay.” Beau sounded far off, distant.

  Then William realized his ears were ringing and he shook his head violently, trying to jump start his idling brain. Wait, what did he just say? He turned to face Beau, “What did you just say?”

  Beau was leaning forward on the couch, hands resting in his lap, face down with his long hair hiding whatever emotion William was certain he would be able to read, if Beau would just look up and meet his eyes. A lone tear landed on Beau’s hand; he sniffed then sucked in a breath, his body visibly trembling. William wanted nothing more than to take Beau in his arms and hold him. But then he said it, again, voiced his thoughts that William was contemptible enough to walk away from him after he fought tooth and nail to get Beau to drop his defenses and let him in.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I was afraid of losing you if I did. And I was right, wasn’t I?”

  Okay jackass, that’s it, now I’m pissed! William growled, reaching down and grabbing the side of the coffee table, shoving it out of the way. Beau’s head shot up just as William reached down and fisted a handful of the slate blue Henley he loved to see the big man in—it really brought out his gorgeous baby blues. Focus William, focus. Ogle later, kick ass and take names right now! He jerked Beau up off the couch, staring up into those eyes that were now bloodshot and glistening with unshed tears.

  “Goddamn you Beau! Goddamn you! First, you don’t tell me this life-altering secret. Then you have the audacity to sit here and talk like I’m shiftless enough to just walk away from you. Is that really what you think of me Beau? Because if it is, I don’t know why you even told me at all.” William took a few seconds to catch his breath, his arms shook and has jaw hurt from gritting his teeth.

  “I know this isn’t going to be easy Beau, and I know there is a lot more we need to talk about, but you tell me right fucking now if you are going to continue to play this game of push and pull. I won’t turn my life upside down if you can’t promise me…” the rest of the words he wanted to say were quickly forgotten when Beau fisted his hands in William’s hair, jerking his body close and covering Williams mouth with his own. The kiss was brutal, domineering and passionate. He was staking his claim on William with his lips, just without words.

  Since oxygen was required to keep one’s lungs pumping, William pulled back when he felt his head spinning from a lack thereof. “Goddamn you Beau,” he whispered, his head resting on Beau’s chest. And then his body started shaking violently, the tears coming hard and fast.

  Beau wrapped his arms around him, holding William close. “Shhhhh, Cher. It’s okay. I got you. And if you still want me, you got me.”

  “Of course I still want you. You big, dumb oaf!” He didn’t fight Beau when he sat on the couch, pulling him down to sit beside him. Neither of them spoke for a while and William was grateful that Beau was giving him the time to process the information. When he felt he’d calmed down enough to talk without shouting or accusing, William scooted to the opposite end of the couch, turning sideways to face Beau. “Okay, start at the beginning and don’t leave anything out; I want to know the whole story, Beau.”

  “A’right. You see, my parents got busy and den nine months later… OW!” Beau hollered when William leaned toward him and punched him in the arm, hard. “What was dat for Cher?”

  “Don’t test me right now Boudreaux, you know exactly what I meant. You and Izaiah, how did he get sick?” William glared at the man sitting across from him, daring him to continue to patronize him and think that William would not whip his ass if he had to, to get to the truth of the matter.

  Beau grabbed his beer, draining what was left in one swig then standing and going to the kitchen. “Another for you?” he called out.

  “Yes, please.”

  Six pack in hand so he wouldn’t have to get up again—this was going to take a while—Beau found his spot on the couch again, turning sideways so he could see William’s face as he told him about the slow descent into madness his former lover took because Beau wasn’t there for him when he needed him. “I knew dat Izzie was using long before I told him it was me or the drugs. Den h
e started getting sick and I tought dat he was using again, but he begged me to believe him, said we could go to the doctor for a blood test to prove he was still clean. Dat was when we first find out he was HIV positive.”

  “God Beau; that must have been devastating. How long after that were you tested?” William asked. Again, fighting the urge to climb into Beau’s lap and just hold him.

  “A couple weeks later I tink, I was just so focused on Izzie dat I didn’t even tink to get tested until Alma, Izzie’s momma, cussed me a right fool and sent me back to the doctor.” Beau picked at his beer label. He wouldn’t look at William while he talked and it bothered him a little, but as long as Beau kept sharing, he’d deal with eye contact another time. “It’s funny, until I got the results of my test I had myself convinced I would be negative. Izzie and I had been together for eight years by den and hadn’t practiced safe sex most of dose eight years. But still, I got it in my brain dat he got it from sharing needles, so since I didn’t do any a dat, I would be okay.”

  “But you weren’t okay.” Beau shook his head. “And is that how Izzie contracted the virus, through dirty needles when he was using?”