All Cocks Stories Box Set Volume 2

by Smith,T. M.

  Slowly, he walked toward the bed, grinning and reaching for David’s hand. He jerked back, eyes going wide when he looked up at Dusty. Dusty held his hands up, speaking softly in the hopes of calming David. “Hey, it’s okay D. You’re safe here; I won’t let anyone hurt you, I promise.”

  As soon as Dusty spoke, David visibly calmed, reaching out with a shaky hand. “I know you. You’re the angel in my dreams; I recognize your voice.” David’s voice sounded like he’d gargled with glass then brushed his teeth with sandpaper. But there was a melodic tone to it as well, exactly the way Dusty had imagined. He laughed, grabbing the offered hand and gently squeezing. Catching the leg of the chair with his boot, Dusty pulled it closer so he could sit, refusing to release David’s hand. Much to his dismay, he had to let go long enough for the nurse to check David’s vitals, but he didn’t go far.

  Sheila was removing the blood pressure cuff from David’s wrist when one of his many doctors wandered into the room, smiling. “So good of you to finally join us, Mr. Thompson,” the doctor joked before taking his turn at poking and prodding, asking David what the last thing he remembered was, hands still gliding over David’s various injuries.

  “Everything is still a little fuzzy,” he said, wincing when the doctor put pressure on his abdomen. “I remember my brother was upset about something; after that it’s all a blur. Why? Was I in a car accident or something? Is that why my leg is in a cast?” David asked, the heart monitor going wonky as his heart rate increased. Dusty cringed when David lifted his left hand and ran his fingers over his eye. “I…I can’t see out of my left eye and it feels weird.”

  “I tell you what David, let me order some labs and a CT scan and then we’ll talk some more. Okay?” the doctor asked. David nodded once, turning his head to the side, seeking out Dusty again. The doctor told Sheila what he wanted while he wrote in David’s chart before the two of them left the room.

  David stared up at Dusty, uncertainty clear on his face. “Why do I get the feeling you’re all hiding something important from me?”

  Dusty shook his head, offering David a genuine smile. Damn, but the guy was pretty smart. “Not hiding D, just waiting. You’ve been in a coma for a long time, we don’t want to overwhelm you too soon, throw everything at you at once. Can you be patient for a little while longer? I promise, I’ll tell you everything, eventually.”

  David snorted. “Right, you sound like Dale. Where is he by the way?”

  Oh goddamn. He really doesn’t remember. Thankfully, Sheila returned with an orderly, successfully distracting David. Dusty expressed his concern about David’s memory loss to Sheila and was assured it wasn’t uncommon for someone who had suffered trauma to the brain to experience memory loss. “That’s why the doctor ordered the CT scan, Dusty. Don’t go getting yourself worked up—let’s wait to see what the scan shows, okay?” Dusty nodded, but wasn’t convinced.

  All the time spent sitting at David’s bedside hoping and praying he would wake up didn’t hold a candle to the anxiety Dusty experienced in the two hours they waited for the results of his CT scan. David was exhausted when they brought him back to the room. As soon as he saw Dusty was still there he settled in and fell asleep until the doctor came in to talk about the scan.

  “The trauma to your brain was very severe, Mr. Thompson. The scan shows there are areas in the brain that are still swollen, which would explain your memory impairment. You’re very cognitive though, so I expect you’ll make a full recovery. As the swelling continues to dissipate, I think you’ll regain the majority, if not all, of your memory,” the doctor advised.

  “How much longer do you think I’ll be here?” David asked.

  The elderly gentleman in the white coat chuckled, leaning forward and gently patting David’s leg. “Well, provided you continue to make progress, I think no more than a week—two at most. I’m going to order another scan for the day after tomorrow so we can continue to monitor the swelling and then we’ll talk about your release from there. Sound good?” Dusty was pleased that the doctor was being so straightforward with David, not trying to sugar-coat anything.

  When David didn’t answer right away, Dusty did. “Sounds good, Doc.”

  “Make sure you sign all the HIPAA paperwork Mr. Thompson, so your gentleman here can continue to be informed of your condition,” the doctor told them before scribbling in David’s medical record and handing it off to the nurse. He offered them another smile as he left the room.

  David nodded with a yawn, stretching his arms over his head. Dusty laughed. “Why don’t you try to get some rest?”

  “Only if you promise you’ll be here when I wake up.” Dusty nodded, and when their eyes met, he mentally checked off the eye-color box. They were as blue as he’d imagined. Right now they were red rimmed, but Dusty was certain once the red dissipated, they’d be as crystal blue as a hidden ravine in a tropical paradise.

  Chapter 2 | Coming Out

  David didn’t want to close his eyes, afraid the man sitting by his bed would up and disappear, much like his memory. Why couldn’t he remember what happened? Why couldn’t he remember Dusty? He had to know him—his voice was like the calm after a violent storm: something he clung to, though he didn’t know why. His headache was starting to ease off, the shot the nurse gave him before she left the room finally kicking in. His eyes grew heavy and the soft beeps of the machine he was hooked up to started to fade into a more calming white noise. Slowly, he fell into a fitful sleep.

  ***

  “What do you mean you’re gay?” Dale spoke through gritted teeth.

  “What part don’t you understand, Dale? I’m gay.” David shrugged, giving his big brother an Am I not speaking English? look.

  “That’s disgusting Davie, and it’s not funny,” Dale shouted. His sudden burst of anger scared David and he took a couple steps back, just in case his brother started swinging. Dale Thompson had always been a bully and being his own flesh and blood didn’t give David a free pass. If anything, he was even harder on his little brother.

  “So, you think I’m disgusting then? ’Cause I’m gay Dale, it’s who I am and I can’t change that.” David spoke softly, trying to calm his brother before things got out of hand.

  Dale growled at him, baring his teeth and clenching his fists before advancing, pinning David to the wall behind him. One of his big, meaty hands wrapped around David’s neck, lifting him a couple of inches off the ground. “Now you listen to me, you little piece of shit. You are not gay, do you understand me? You get that nonsense out of your pea-brain before I beat it out of you, you get me, Davie?”

  “Dale Thompson, you unhand your brother this instant!” Their mother kicked the front door shut, dropping the bag of groceries, her purse and her keys on the ground, rushing over and grabbing Dale’s arm. He didn’t try to fight their mother; he complied, letting his hand fall and stepping away so he could pace the room.

  David landed on his ass on the hardwood floor, his mother kneeling down beside him and lifting his chin so she could see his face. “Did he hurt you again, baby?” she asked, her eyes already filling with tears.

  She turned and looked up at Dale. “Dammit, Dale! You promised me you wouldn’t do this shit anymore; he has your handprint on his neck. What is going on here, boys?”

  Dale stopped pacing. He leaned over and spit on the floor at David’s feet. “Why don’t you ask your little angel there what’s going on? Go on, tell your mother how much you like sucking dick, Davie. And then we’ll see if she still comes running to your defense.”

  Diane Thompson gasped, covering her mouth and looking at her oldest son like he’d just lost his mind. “That’s enough—” Dale cut her off with a wave of his hand.

  “Ask him, Mom.”

  Diane turned to look at her youngest son. He was backed up against the wall, shaking like a leaf, obviously scared of what his brother might do. Tear stained cheeks and wide bright blue eyes silently pleaded with her for help. “Davie, baby, what’s your brother
talking about?”

  David slowly stood, careful to stay on the other side of his mother, hopefully out of his brother’s reach. “I…I’m…” he coughed, his throat raw from the chokehold.

  “He’s fucking gay, Mom! Gay. Your poor pitiful baby likes guys instead of girls; that’s what’s going on here.” Dale crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at his little brother with so much hate it made David’s skin crawl. They’d never had the best relationship, the eight years between them only adding to the cavernous void that separated the two Thompson boys. Dale was built like a gorilla, whereas David was small and lithe. The only similarities they shared aside from their last name were the same deep blue eyes and almost white-blond hair.

  “Davie, baby, is that true?” his mom whispered, pulling David out of his reverie. Not certain he could get his voice to cooperate, David simply nodded his head. Diane’s eyes went wide and she stumbled a few steps backwards.

  “No Davie, you’re just confused; you can’t be gay, sweetie. It’s an abomination. A sin.” David’s heart sank. He knew going into this it wouldn’t be easy, that his crude brother and conveniently religious mother would be obstacles. But the death stare his brother was giving him wasn’t foreseen. Diane finally shook off her surprise and stepped back in front of him, wrapping her arms around him and pulling David close.

  “It’s okay baby, we’ll call Father Felps and get him over here so we can take care of this.” Diane turned to look at Dale, “Dale, go call Father Felps and tell him to hurry, it’s an emergency…” but before she could finish, David jerked away from her.

  “No. There is nothing wrong with this, with me mother—I’m gay. Don’t you get it? This is who I am,” he pleaded.

  “You make me sick, you fucking faggot.” Dale growled, advancing on his brother, stopping short when his mother grabbed his arm and turned him to face her, then slapped him hard.

  “You will not speak that vulgarity in my home, Dale Thompson. Now go do what I asked you to do and I’ll deal with David.” She shoved Dale toward the kitchen where the land line was, turning back to David and opening her arms wide. His mother was possibly the only person on the planet that could get away with speaking to her oldest son that way. “Baby, please, let Momma help you.”

  For a moment, David played the fool. His mother had always protected him from his older, much larger, overbearing brother. This time wouldn’t be any different, right? He melted into the warmth of her arms and broke down. He was spent and confused, unclear which way was up or down. A few seconds of peace was awarded before his mother opened her mouth again and shattered the protective bubble her arms had erected around them.

  “It’s okay angel, Momma will make it all better. Father Felps will come and help us rid you of this demon of sexuality, rid you of the evil that festers inside.”

  David jerked away from her and didn’t let himself be fooled by the hurt expression on her face. “No, Mom. Jesus, there is nothing wrong with me that needs to be fixed. There is nothing wrong with me being gay.”

  ***

  “Mom, no…don’t…don’t say that.” David jerked awake, breathless and frightened. He pushed at the arms that were wrapped around him, convinced they were his mother’s when it was Dusty that held him tight, not letting him jerk out his IV or any other gadget he was hooked up to.

  “D, hey, it’s okay.” Dusty sat on the edge of the bed, his strong arms holding David protectively. He rubbed his hands up and down David’s back and shushed him. “It was just a bad dream, D. You’re still here in the hospital with me. It’s okay.” Dusty’s voice alone soothed him and calmed his racing heart. There was a familiarity in Dusty’s voice and yet, David couldn’t grasp any memories of the man that smelled like cinnamon and musk.

  Inhaling a deep breath, he added the unique scent to his memory as Dusty continued to soothe David with soft spoken words, holding him close and gently swaying side to side. “Why do you call me D?” he asked, making Dusty laugh.

  Sitting up, Dusty held David out at arm’s length, smiling at him. “You’re back in the land of the living now?” David nodded.

  Before Dusty could answer his question a nurse barreled into the room. “What’s wrong?” She looked from Dusty to David, back to Dusty and then came to the wrong conclusion. “Dusty, you get your butt back in that chair.” She pointed as she walked closer to the bed. “David is still healing; there will be no monkey business on my shift you hear me?”

  Dusty shook his head, laughing. He moved away from the bed and sat down. David instantly missed the warmth of Dusty’s arms wrapped around him. “No, I had a bad dream. He was trying to calm me down, that’s all.” David jumped to his defense.

  “Mmmmhmmm.” The nurse eyed them both warily, not convinced. She checked all the monitors and David’s IV before leaving them alone again, with a weak threat of kicking Dusty out of the room if she caught him in the bed with David again. They both laughed at her as she left the room.

  “Hey, you wanna tell me what you were dreaming about?” Dusty leaned over, taking David’s hand in his. Just that touch sent a sharp tingle along David’s arm.

  He stared down at their joined hands for a few moments before slowly lifting his gaze to Dusty’s face. God, but the man was gorgeous. He had a round face framed by unruly, wavy brown hair and deep brown eyes and when he smiled, like he was doing at the moment, his eyes lit up. Mapping out the man’s features, David wondered how old Dusty was. He had barely noticeable laugh lines at the corners of his mouth and eyes. Some people thought of laugh lines as a sign of aging. David simply felt they were a sign of a happy life.

  Dusty’s lips were moving; slowly the corners turned upward and he held one of his hands up in front of David’s face. He blinked a couple times, focusing on Dusty’s sexy smile, his lips moving again when he spoke. “You okay, D?” he asked.

  David nodded. “Yeah, just…why do you call me D? And why don’t I remember you? I mean, I know your voice but try as hard as I might, I can’t really remember you.”

  David watched him closely, certain he saw a bit of apprehension in Dusty’s eyes, but the emotion was gone as just as quickly, replaced by a soft smile. “We didn’t know each other before you got hurt D, but I’ve been here watching you, talking to you almost every day for the past couple months. That’s probably why you recognize my voice. As for why I call you D, my best friend Kory calls me D a lot instead of Dusty. I guess it stuck.” Dusty shrugged, running his thumb over David’s knuckles. The intimate gesture did funny things to David’s stomach, made him feel jittery in a good way, and safe.

  David wondered again why Dusty was with him. What was it that brought Dusty to him and made him stay with a virtual stranger? He was having trouble voicing his thoughts, Dusty’s fingers brushing his knuckles distracting him to the point of haziness. As much as he was enjoying it, David slowly pulled his hand away. There was already far too much David couldn’t grasp in his mind—the question needed to be asked: “Why are you here Dusty? I mean, why did you come here in the first place if you don’t know me?”

  There was a flash of emotion in the depths of Dusty’s brown eyes, there one instant and then gone so fast, David couldn’t put a name to it. Before Dusty could answer his question, an aide came in with a small paper cup that held two tablets. “Here you are. Doc wants you to start an oral antibiotic and an anti-inflammatory for the leg.” The aide reached for the cup and pitcher of water on the bedside table. He filled the cup and handed it to David, lifting both eyebrows, eyes wandering from the paper cup in David’s hand to the cup of water.

  “Oh, sorry,” David apologized, popping the tablets into his mouth and washing them down with the entire cup of water. The aide smiled, patted David on the leg then left the room, tossing the paper cup into the trash on his way out the door.

  Now, where were we? The tender look he got from Dusty when he lifted his head left David flustered, forgetting that Dusty hadn’t actually answered his question. Neither of them spoke for a wh
ile, they simply sat and watched each other. Normally, David felt far too shy and awkward to hold eye contact with anyone for more than a few moments. But something about Dusty drew him in, like a moth to a flame. There was a kindness in Dusty’s eyes that David hadn’t often seen in his young life. David was utterly captivated by the man.

  While David was quite certain Dusty wasn’t telling him everything, he was even more certain the good looking guy holding his hand meant him no harm. There was a flash of memory, his brother Dale growling at him, picking on him about his small stature and effeminate features. His body involuntarily shuddered. Dusty, thinking he was cold, stood and reached for the soft, white blanket, pulling it up to David’s chest and tucking it under his arms.

  Dusty cleared his throat as he sat back down in the chair. “So, can you tell me what you were dreaming about, D?”

  Nodding again, David reached for his water, taking several large gulps to loosen the lump in his throat. With Dusty’s help, he managed to get the bed into a more upright position with a couple of pillows behind him so he was sitting up. “I was dreaming about the day I told my mother and my brother Dale I was gay. They weren’t happy about it.” David snorted out a laugh, but there was no humor in the sound.