Damage Control

by Lynn VanDorn

  “Do it,” Tyler hissed, sliding his legs down Josh until he was standing on his own feet.

  Tyler gave Josh a little push, then leaned back against the wall. Josh sank down obediently, first into a squat and then down on his knees. He undid the button on Tyler’s jeans and unzipped them carefully. Then he pulled the jeans and underwear down Tyler’s thighs.

  Tyler had exquisite hip bones, the iliac crests creating delicate ridges that Josh traced his thumbs over. The skin was stretched taut there and Tyler shivered under Josh’s touch. His thick erection was a deep rosy hue that was a stark contrast to his milky skin. It jutted out, seeking contact, so Josh closed his fist around it. Tyler thrust into Josh’s hand and moaned.

  “Suck me, dammit.”

  Josh leaned forward and licked the slit, gathering the precum there onto his tongue. Tyler hissed in a breath.

  “Ask me nicely, princess.”

  “Fuck. You,” Tyler bit out and bucked his hips again.

  Josh let go and Tyler groaned. “Try again,” Josh said. He took first one, then the other, of Tyler’s testicles into his mouth and sucked. Tyler’s head hit the back of the wall with a bang that had to have hurt.

  “Jesus,” Tyler moaned.

  “Wrong Jew. Keep trying.”

  Tyler let out a short burst of laughter. “God, you win. Please, suck my cock, Josh. Pretty please with sugar and whipped cream and a fucking cherry on top.”

  “Your wish is my command.” Josh took Tyler’s length into his mouth as far as he could. He sucked hard and fast, wanting Tyler to come quickly. Later he would do this again and take the time to savor it, but right now he just wanted to taste Tyler’s orgasm.

  He loved the sounds that Tyler made as he surrendered to Josh’s mouth. They were so needy, so abandoned, and so different from the very controlled man who’d sucked his dick this morning. Josh also loved it when Tyler’s fingers sank into his hair, gripping tight and holding on for dear life. Tyler started to fuck his mouth and Josh let him, curling his fist around the base of Tyler’s cock to keep him from going too deep since he didn't have Tyler’s apparent complete lack of a gag reflex.

  “I wanna come on you,” Tyler said. That wasn't really Josh’s thing, but before he could even think to register a protest, Tyler pulled out of his mouth, curled his own hand over Josh’s, then came on Josh’s face and chest. Some of it hit his glasses and slowly dripped down the lens.

  The sane portion of Josh’s brain recovered enough to be both irritated and a bit grossed out by the semen on his glasses. The rest of him thought it was kind of funny, at least until Tyler reached down and rubbed his cum into Josh’s skin and lips with a dreamy look on his pretty face. Then everything went back to want.

  “Fuck, that's hot,” Tyler said. His pupils had swallowed his eyes, making them look black and bottomless. “You're filthy and gorgeous and m—” he paused, frowned, then continued, “messy. You need a shower now. And a change of clothes.” He gave Josh a lopsided smile. “That was intense,” he said. “I got a little carried away. There's some in your hair, too. Just a little. Right here.” He gently pulled on a curl that fell over Josh’s forehead. “Sorry.” Tyler took Josh’s glasses off his face and licked them clean, then dried them with his shirt.

  Josh got to his feet, then leaned against the wall next to Tyler. He brought his shirt up and wiped off his face. “Damn,” he said. “You’re just one surprise after another, Tyler.”

  “I aim to please.” Tyler handed the inadequately cleaned glasses back to him.

  “Your aim is terrible,” Josh corrected, making Tyler snicker.

  Josh was torn between wanting to shove Tyler against the wall and fuck him and a near-desperate longing for a shower. While he debated the merits of each option, with the shower being in the lead, Tyler knelt at his feet in one fluid gesture.

  He looked up at Josh with a roguish glint in his eyes. “Let me make it up to you.” He undid Josh’s jeans button and fly.

  Josh opened his mouth to tell Tyler it wasn't necessary—he could take care of it himself in the shower and that would be for the best—but then Tyler’s mouth was on him and he forgot what he'd been going to say.

  Tyler held his hips and swallowed his cock, making it disappear like a magic trick. Then the trick was explained when he felt Tyler’s throat convulse around him.

  “Fuck. Fuck.” It seemed to be the only word his brain was capable of making his mouth say. He'd thought the blow job this morning had been intense, but this was beyond even that. Tyler’s mouth was hot and wet and tight around him. As he bobbed his head along Josh’s length, Tyler let his teeth graze him, just a little, and Josh teetered on the edge. “Oh, fuck.”

  Tyler pulled his mouth off him, making Josh shudder with need. “You’re about to come, aren't you?” His hand jerked Josh, but it wasn't enough.

  “Fuck, please.” Oh, good. His brain was capable of two words.

  Tyler ran one of his fingers along Josh’s slit where he leaked copious amounts of precum.

  “So polite, even in extremis,” Tyler murmured. His lips grazed the head of Josh’s cock, making it twitch with frustrated need. “Well, since you asked so nicely…”

  Tyler swallowed his cock down again and Josh’s hand went to the back of Tyler’s head, fingers tangling into his blue hair. Tyler hummed, his throat gripping Josh’s cock with impossible tightness, and Josh was right there on the edge again. If Tyler pulled back this time, he thought he might die. But instead of another retreat, Tyler’s hand went between Josh’s legs and Tyler’s slick finger pushed inside his body. The sensation of Tyler fingering his ass was enough to push Josh over the precipice he'd been teetering on and he came hard. His knees were replaced with jelly, and after Tyler slowly pulled his mouth from his softening cock, Josh slid to the ground in an inelegant heap next to Tyler, who grinned at him.

  “Wow.” His brain had come up with a third word. Progress.

  “Feel better?” Tyler asked. “Did that make up for your messy glasses?”

  Josh moved his legs so they were in a more comfortable position and leaned his back against the wall. Tyler sprawled next to him, looking like a debauched fairy prince with his regal air despite his mussed hair and red, swollen mouth.

  Give me a half-hour and I could fuck the shit out him. That was Josh’s dick, so no surprise there. The sane portion of his brain started to chime in with post-orgasm fretting. Do you know what you're doing? Are you sure? Also, I think a half-hour is being optimistic. The rest of his brain was still too blissed-out to function and had nothing helpful to contribute.

  Tyler let out a low, soft laugh and dabbed at his lips with his tongue. “I'll give you a minute for your IQ to normalize.” He straightened his clothing, then stood with graceful ease. He leaned against the wall and gazed down at Josh with amusement evident in eyes that had gone the blue of a tropical sea.

  “Fuck you,” Josh said. He also got to his feet, his movements considerably less elegant than Tyler’s. He pulled up his jeans, refastened them, and thought about how much he wanted a shower.

  Tyler clucked his tongue. “Such gratitude.”

  So Josh kissed him, his lips and tongue saying everything without needing to utter a word.

  A distant warning—are you sure, are you certain—sounded again in the back of his brain, and Josh pulled back. “Thank you,” he said, “for the new boathouse memory.”

  “My pleasure,” Tyler purred at him in full-on lash-fluttering shameless flirt mode. Then he turned it off, like one would a faucet, and gave Josh a more guarded, neutral expression. “Is there anything you won't eat?” When Josh just stared at him, he added, “Food. Is there any food you won't eat?”

  Oh. “I don't keep kosher and I don't have any food allergies, if that's what you're asking. If you're serious about making dinner, go nuts.”

  “Great. Let's get back to the house so you can clean up and I'll make dinner.”

  –—

  Sunday, September 18th, 7:42
p.m.

  An unnecessarily large rental house

  Blue Lake, WI

  Before getting into the shower, Josh made the mistake of checking his email. There was one from his father with the subject: your upcoming birthday.

  Your mother and I want to know if you have plans for your 35th birthday. I know it's a few weeks away, but coming so soon after Rachel’s wedding, we thought perhaps you should start thinking about it now.

  Your mother would like to go to Wildfire, so it would be nice if you could tell her that's where you want to go. It would make her very happy.

  Your mother also wants to know if you’re bringing a date to your sister's wedding so she can plan the seating chart for dinner. She says you aren't currently dating anyone, and you're running out of time to secure a date. If you don’t find someone, you know your mother will find someone for you. I was thinking perhaps you could ask someone from your office. Perhaps one of the nurses?

  Which reminds me, I was golfing the other day with Peter and he told me that his son Ryan is engaged. Had you heard? I know you two used to be friends. Maybe Rachel told you, although she didn't say anything to me about it. I hear Ryan’s fiancée is a lovely woman. He’s bringing her to Rachel’s wedding, so you'll get a chance to meet her then.

  You should take this as your wakeup call. Being single at 30 is one thing, but at 35, people start to talk. Your mother and I worry that you'll end up alone, with no family of your own.

  Make 35 a new beginning. Hopefully you can start a new relationship, and maybe even your own practice. I know you'd like having your own office, and it would be beneficial if you had someone to come home to at night. And maybe you should consider buying a house instead of living in that condo.

  Just promise me you'll at least think about it.

  Josh wanted to ignore his dad’s email completely, just delete it and forget about it, but if he didn't reply his dad would just send another, even more annoying version of the same message.

  He gritted his teeth and sent a terse reply.

  re: your upcoming birthday

  Dad, tell Mom Wildfire is fine. We should make sure Rachel and Brad are back from their honeymoon so they can join us. My date to the wedding is all taken care of. I'll discuss it with Mom tomorrow.

  He wasn’t sure which part was the worst: not getting to choose where he had his birthday dinner (fairly minor, but still irritating), the suggestion he buy a house (even though he loved his condo), being told that he should open his own dermatology practice (he'd rather stick needles in his eyes than have his own office), being told that he should find someone as his date for the wedding (with the unspoken threat of his mother setting him up with someone she thought would be ‘just perfect’ for him again), or being flat-out told he would die bitter and alone while having Ryan’s fiancée shoved into his face.

  Probably the last was the worst because it hit closest to home.

  He was a little surprised Rachel hadn't said anything about him already having a date to her wedding to their parents yet. Maybe she was waiting for him to break the bad news. His father would not be happy when he learned that his son’s date was not the suggested nurse, but instead his former boss’s twenty-five-year-old son.

  Josh sighed. That was not going to go over well at all.

  He never said so out loud, but Josh thought that his father was hoping one day his son would spontaneously stop being gay. If asking his son to bring a nurse from his office to the wedding wasn’t code for ‘please date a girl for a change,’ Josh didn’t know what was. The thing was, two of his office’s six nurses were male, and if Josh wasn't already committed to being Tyler’s fake boyfriend, he would have had half a mind to bribe one of them to be his date just to see the look on his father's face.

  However, as Tyler was his date, his mother didn't need to worry about the seating chart or setting him up with God knew who and his father would just have to deal. Both he and Tyler were at the head table already, since both were groomsmen. Problem solved.

  Tomorrow Josh would have to call his mother and tell her what was going on, or at least some of what was going on. She could break the news to his dad, because that was not a conversation Josh wanted to have. Things in his life were stressful enough right now. Tyler was a huge ball of trouble in an extremely appealing package. Pretty soon they would be in a public spotlight, and Josh wasn’t sure how he would handle that. Going back to work was going to be interesting. He was probably going to get all kinds of shit from his coworkers about dating someone both notorious and so much younger than himself. And now he got to look forward to seeing Ryan at his sister's wedding with his apparently beautiful fiancée.

  The whole mess was enough to give him indigestion, but there was nothing he could do about it right this second. Josh ate a few antacids, then stepped into the shower. Today had been long and emotionally tiring. His life for the foreseeable future would be far more chaos than order. Josh just wanted to eat dinner, shut his brain off, and hope tomorrow was less stressful, although he didn't have high hopes. He had a feeling he was going to need more antacids.

  When Josh stepped out of the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed in sleep pants and a t-shirt so old and faded he couldn't remember if the original color was blue or gray, his nose was assaulted with the delicious scent of coconut and lemongrass and spices cooking. He followed the scent to the kitchen where the smell of cooking rice joined the party.

  “Is that curry? It smells great. Where did you get curry?”

  Tyler turned and gave him an arch look. “Some of us buy actual food when we go grocery shopping and not just sausage, beer, and marshmallows.”

  Josh folded his arms across his chest. “I bought more than just sausage, beer, and marshmallows.”

  Tyler ignored his protest. “The rice is almost done, then we can eat. I've got a bottle of wine chilling, too.”

  “No alcohol for you,” Josh said. “Remember?”

  “Really? Not even one glass?”

  “No. Not until you're done with the antibiotic.”

  “God, you're no fun,” Tyler complained.

  “I’m the king of no fun. If you wanted fun you should have picked someone else,” Josh said.

  “I'll remember that next time I need a pseudo-boyfriend.” Tyler checked on the rice.

  Josh sat down. The idea of Tyler with another man, even a hypothetical one, sent a sharp stab of jealousy shooting through him, jealousy he had no right to feel. That wasn't good. Worse was the thought that of course there would be other men, ones of the non-pseudo variety. Probably several. The hypothetical here was Josh; not a real boyfriend, not quite a lover, not anything really but an overpaid companion. Two days into their fake relationship and he was already getting attached. It was insane. It was Ryan all over again.

  He could hear his brain saying I told you so in a smug way, like that was at all helpful.

  Added to all the other things he'd been worrying about, this seemed like one problem too many. The one that might push him over the edge. He couldn't get attached to Tyler. That was unacceptable. Period. End of discussion.

  Tyler brought two plates of curry and rice to the table and set one in front of Josh. “I hope you like it,” he said. “You know, just because I can't drink doesn't mean you can’t. You might as well have some wine.”

  Josh didn't reply, but he got up and found an opener for the wine bottle, then poured himself a glass. It was a semi-sweet Riesling that paired perfectly with the dish. Tyler had thought of everything. It reminded him of his father's email and the insinuation that he needed to find himself a nice housewife. The thought made him surly. “Aren't you just the little Suzy homemaker? I'm beginning to think you're way more disgustingly domestic than I am,” he said, and he gave an internal wince at the bitterness that escaped in his tone.

  Tyler flashed him an annoyed glance. “What crawled up your ass and died?”

  Josh closed his eyes. Getting pissed off at Tyler was unfair and he knew it. Th
e person he was mad at was himself, and his father, but mostly himself for letting his father get to him. He was also a little scared. Everything Tyler did drew him, and that attraction, with all its implications, made him want to reach for more antacids. He opened his eyes and gave Tyler a smile he didn't feel. “I’m just old and cranky,” he said, “and it's been a very long day.”

  Tyler’s face was unreadable, scrubbed blank of any expression. “Are you going to eat my food or not?” he asked.

  Josh looked down at his plate of fluffy brown rice, chicken, and vegetables in a pale green sauce. He took a bite and tasted lime and coconut, lemongrass and ginger, garlic and basil. “Holy shit,” he said, feeling even worse about being grumpy. “This is delicious, Tyler.” He shoved another bite in his mouth and closed his eyes again, this time in sheer appreciation.

  “I make it a lot, so I've gotten good at it. I'm glad you like it.” It almost sounded like he was bashful. Tyler. Tyler and bashful were two words that didn't belong together.

  “I love it,” Josh said, and was rewarded when Tyler smiled and turned pink. He was adorable, and that was a word that suited Tyler down to the ground.

  A bolt of longing pierced him. His stupid brain thought: Him. I want him. Josh tried to stop the thought but it kept banging around in his head, refusing to shut up, refusing to go away.

  Josh wanted Tyler to blush, but only for him. He wanted his sharp smiles and sharper words; his dark humor and dancing eyes; his graceful body covered in scars. In that moment, he wanted Tyler so much it was hard to breathe.

  His rational brain rushed in and tried to salvage the situation. That's just lust speaking. I want sex, not forever. This feeling will fade. It will.

  It had better, because Tyler would leave, and Josh’s life would go back to what it had been—comfortable and sterile and lonely, just like his father had pointed out. Tyler would be famous and Josh would watch his movies and tell some other guy, “Hey, I used to date him,” and even that would be a lie because they were only fake dating.