A More Perfect Union

by J. Scott Coatsworth

  Etienne sighed. “I knew it,” he whispered. “You love Dalton.”

  “Yes,” Lucas said before he even knew he was going to say it.

  “You know he’s straight, right?” Etienne wiped his face. “That he can’t love you back?”

  Crying? Was he crying?

  Etienne turned, and yes, he was crying.

  “Yes,” Lucas said.

  There was a long pause. “So now what?”

  Lucas took a deep breath.

  “But do this, Lucas. Make sure the first time is special…. Will you do that for me?”

  He’d told her that he thought he could.

  He thought that if he made love with Etienne right now, it was something he could look back on and smile.

  He reached out and touched Etienne’s face. “Make love to me, Etienne,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper.

  And Etienne was kissing him again. He pushed him back onto the bed once more, climbed onto him, and kissed him. Then he rolled Lucas over onto his side. Soon the clothes began to come off, shirts first, and their bare chests touched. Etienne’s was so big for such a slim (skinny) guy, but smooth. Smooth as Lucas’s. Not a single hair.

  Then belts were undone and zippers came down. Lucas looked down and marveled at the sight of Etienne’s underwear-clad erection, the wet spot, knowing that meant Etienne wanted him.

  I can do this.

  He scooted down and pulled at Etienne’s underwear, securing them under his hairless testicles, freeing Etienne’s cock.

  It was a lovely cock. He had a foreskin since he’d been born and raised in the Netherlands, but this one was tighter and shorter than the last one Lucas had seen. It didn’t look anything like an elephant’s trunk.

  Do it.

  Suck him.

  He was opening his mouth, bending forward, when there was a pounding on the door…

  6

  AND HE heard Dalton’s voice.

  “Lucas! Are you in there?”

  The pounding got louder.

  “Lucas!” Dalton was shouting.

  “Fuck!” cried Etienne.

  There was a moment of silence and then pounding again. But it wasn’t their door. It was the door next door.

  Shit.

  Now, shouting. Some man shouting. Lucas could hear it even through the walls, through the door. This wasn’t a luxury hotel, after all.

  “Who the fuck are you?” came a strange voice.

  Dalton’s voice wasn’t quite as easy to make out. He’d stopped shouting. Sorry? Was that it? Something about a wrong door?

  Then Lucas was off the bed and running to the door. What if the screamer hurt Dalton?

  “Lucas!” That was Etienne. “Where are you going?”

  It couldn’t be helped. How could he do anything else?

  Lucas yanked the door open, only half zipping up first, and stepped out to see a big man, even bigger than Dalton—wide and heavy as well as tall and muscular—raising his fists.

  “I’m sorry, man,” Dalton said, holding his hands out before him. “I was just looking for….” Then Dalton saw him. He locked eyes with Lucas—and God, the emotions reflected in those eyes!—and…

  Dalton didn’t see it coming. Didn’t see the big man swing, didn’t dodge. The fist hit him square on the jaw, and he went down like a felled tree.

  “Dalton!” Lucas screamed and launched himself at Dalton’s attacker. He ran, jumped, landed on the man’s back and, without realizing what he’d done, put him in a chokehold.

  It was a valiant try, but it was like trying to ride a bull at a rodeo. The man had to be double Lucas’s weight, at least—Lucas weighed no more than a hundred and twenty pounds. A swift elbow to his stomach and the air whooshed out of Lucas’s lungs with an “Ooof!” He went stumbling back, and before he could fall, the man’s locomotive fist hit him. He whirled around and went down hard. And then he was swallowed by darkness.

  The last echoing thing he heard was, “Lucas!”

  7

  LUCAS WOKE to a circle of faces peering down at him. He had no idea how long he’d been out—in fact didn’t really understand fully that he’d been unconscious at all. Only that one minute he’d witnessed a big fist hurtling meteorically toward this face, and the next there was a simply unbelievable amount of pain, and he was spinning, and then the ground was coming up at him. More pain, the wind being knocked from him again, and there, inches from his face, the butt of a crushed out cigarette, and…

  …then he was here.

  Wherever here was, although here was softer than the concrete where he’d been before.

  A cigarette butt. There had been a cigarette butt. And had there been a trundling roly-poly bug as well—looking as if it were the size of a tank?

  “Lucas! Thank God!” That was Dalton, and oh… oh… the look on his face. Before he knew what was happening, Dalton swept him up in his arms. “Lucas, baby, you scared the shit out of me.”

  Baby? Had Dalton just called him baby?

  “Wha-what hap-happened,” he asked, and God, suddenly he was hurting. His head was buzzing, and his jaw was killing him, and there was the taste of copper. Blood? Was that blo—

  But suddenly he didn’t care.

  He was in Dalton’s arms.

  Bliss!

  He opened his eyes to see Etienne and Rebecca—fucking Rebecca—looking on. The sneer on her face! And…. Oh…. Lucas swallowed hard. The anguish on Etienne’s.

  “Wha…. Who?”

  “Your boyfriend rescued you,” Rebecca snarled.

  “Etienne?”

  “Not the wimp,” she snapped. “Your other boyfriend.”

  Other boyfriend? What other boyfriend?

  “He was like fucking Superman or something,” Etienne said, distress coming through his voice as well. “He just beat that big guy up.”

  “The guy who punched me?” Lucas asked. Because that was what happened, right? That big bruiser who had tried to hurt Dalton?

  “Dalton?” Lucas pulled back, and Dalton gave a shrug and ran his fingers through his shaggy mop of hair and….

  God! Dalton’s hand! It was bloody. All scuffed up.

  “Dalton!” He grabbed Dalton’s hand—Dalton hissed—and then more gently brought it to his mouth and kissed the abused knuckles, not caring about blood, only that Dalton was hurt. Helping him. “Oh, Dalton….”

  “Oh. Fuck. This. Shit!” Rebecca said. “Et, can you give me a ride home?”

  “What?” asked Etienne. “No, I can’t give you a ride home. Lucas and I are….”

  “Lucas and you aren’t doing shit! Can’t you see that?” She tossed her gorgeous blonde hair.

  “What? Lucas?”

  Lucas looked at Etienne, saw the confusion. And something more. Hurt?

  “Dalton!” Etienne said. “Do you think you can let go of my boyfriend?”

  Rebecca let out a puff of air. “God, this is pathetic.”

  Dalton started to pull away, but Lucas held on. He wasn’t letting go. Not yet.

  “Et!” snapped Rebecca. “Can’t you see we lost?”

  “Lost?” Etienne said, his voice filled with confusion and, yes, hurt.

  “Christ, I know you’re not that stupid. Can’t you see the way they’re looking at each other? They’ve only got eyes for each other. They’ve chosen each other. We. Lost.”

  Etienne shook his head. “Lucas? Is that true?”

  The pain in Etienne’s eyes made Lucas’s heart hurt, but… he turned back to Dalton. Did he dare hope? Was Rebecca right? Surely not. But then he saw it. Saw what she had seen. God! The look in Dalton’s beautiful eyes. Could it be?

  Dalton gave a single nod.

  “No,” cried Etienne. “He’s straight.” He stepped up to Dalton and shoved him. “He’s straight, Lucas. You can’t choose him. Choose me! Please!”

  “Et!” Rebecca shook her head. “You’re groveling. Show some pride, man. Let’s get out of here.”

  “No! Lucas!”

&
nbsp; Lucas looked at him.

  “Choose me! How can you have anything with a straight guy? You think he can make you happy? I can make you happy! I—I’ll find a way to stay here in America. And I will make you happy.”

  “Lucas?” It was Dalton.

  Now he was looking at the one he’d loved since the day a boy taught another how to tie his shoes. And he was seeing love in his eyes. He was sure of it.

  “Pick me,” Dalton whispered.

  “But….” You’re straight. He started to push away—Etienne was right, wasn’t he? How could he choose Dalton, as much as he wanted to?—but this time Dalton wouldn’t let go.

  “Pick me, Lucas. I’m so sorry I’ve pushed you away. Tell me it’s not too late. Pick me?”

  “Oh, Dalton.”

  And then they were kissing.

  No bottle to spin tonight. Only fate. Only their whole lives.

  He heard a sob, but he couldn’t break the kiss. He just couldn’t. It was Dalton who did first, and when—with guilt and a little shame—Lucas glanced at Etienne, he saw that his boyfriend had turned and was leaving the room. Rebecca was already gone. Etienne dared one last look back, but Lucas could only shrug helplessly.

  He didn’t know if this was truly real.

  But he had to find out.

  Etienne turned and left.

  And now there were only the two of them.

  8

  LUCAS OPENED his mouth to ask how, but before he could ask anything, Dalton was kissing him again. Soft at first, and then harder. It hurt Lucas’s jaw, but he wasn’t about to stop him. He had waited far too many years for this.

  But then… then he had to stop. He had to know. He had to know what this was. Was it for real?

  With a little cry, he pulled his mouth from Dalton’s and asked in one breath. “How?”

  “How?” Dalton repeated.

  “How can this be happening?” Lucas asked, surprised to find he felt almost angry. “You said you weren’t gay.”

  Dalton shrugged. “I don’t know if I am.”

  Now Lucas did push away. “Then how can you ask me to choose you? At least Etienne is gay! He loves me.”

  “I love you,” Dalton whispered. “I’ve always loved you.” And his eyes! They were filled with a maelstrom of emotions.

  “But you’re not gay…. How can we have anything if you don’t want me the way I want you?”

  “Like this?” Dalton asked, his voice still barely above a murmur, and he took Lucas’s hand and placed it on his…

  God. He was hard! Dalton was hard. But how?

  “I don’t understand….”

  “I went to get ice….” Dalton’s voice hitched. “For….”

  “Ice?” Lucas asked, confused. What did ice have to do with anything?

  Dalton nodded. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “And I saw Etienne’s car. I just froze. I realized that you must be here with him. Why else would his car be here? I started… fuck. I started shaking. I just suddenly saw the two of you naked together.”

  Just like me.

  “I got the goddamned ice and went back to the room and Rebecca. She was already naked. And all I could think of was you. Here I had her, naked and ready for me at last—”

  At last?

  “—and all I could think of was you. I looked at her smiling, trying to look sexy for me—and I saw your face. I looked at her breasts… and they… they weren’t right. They weren’t doing anything for me. All I could think of was your pretty bare chest….”

  Lucas’s eyes widened. What? “My pretty chest?”

  Dalton’s eyes filled with desire. “So flat, with just the smallest amount of definition. So smooth. Not one hair….”

  Dalton had looked at his chest?

  “Your sexy little nipples. And right then I knew… knew I didn’t want her. I wanted you.”

  “Me?”

  “But there she was. What was I supposed to do? She was motioning me over to the bed, and I saw all she had to offer. A normal life. Marriage. Kids. Everything I wanted.”

  “And we can’t get married,” Lucas said, his eyes filling with tears. “Can’t have kids.”

  “But then she did it, Lucas. Made it impossible. She actually said that she wanted to suck my cock, and then… all I could think of was you. That night.”

  “That night?” Lucas asked. What night?

  But then he knew. Or thought he did. “When I asked if I could be the first to do that to you?”

  Dalton nodded.

  “But all you could promise was that you wouldn’t let another guy do it first.”

  Dalton shook his head. “No. I realized I couldn’t have my first time be with anyone but you. It had to be you. It has always had to be you. I don’t know how I couldn’t have known. But I love you, Lucas, and I want you. Please say yes.”

  Lucas let out a laugh. Dalton had to ask? “Yes,” he said.

  And then they were kissing again.

  They didn’t stop this time.

  Dalton lay down on the bed next to him, and they kissed and touched and held each other. Lucas’s face still hurt, but he didn’t care. He wanted this. Needed it. It would have taken a lot more pain for him to consider stopping.

  He could touch Dalton’s chest now, and God, had he ever imagined anything like this? Dalton’s chest was so different from his own. Different than Etienne’s. Bigger. Harder. And hairy. Not overly so, but oh so soft and spread out everywhere. He wanted to feel it against his face, and when he had the chance, he lowered his head and lightly rubbed his cheek against it. So sexy. So, so sexy.

  But then Dalton was rolling him over on his back and kissing, kissing, kissing downward. He kept traveling down, down Lucas’s body, and was there any way Dalton couldn’t see his straining erection?

  “Oh, Lucas,” Dalton said with a heady growl. “My tiger. At last.”

  At last?

  Dalton unsnapped Lucas’s trousers and had them unzipped before he realized what was happening. A few quick yanks later and his pants were open and his erection springing out, and then… oh God, then he was in Dalton’s mouth!

  Dalton took him deep, and Lucas arched up off the bed and almost came in that instant. He wasn’t sure how he didn’t. Dalton was humming, causing the most amazing vibration through his cock, and he had to bite down on the insides of his cheek to stop himself from finishing too soon. It worked. The bite set off the pain in his jaw, and his ass dropped back to the bed. Now Dalton was bobbing up and down on his cock, and he reached down and clutched at Dalton’s shaggy hair and let out a sob. He couldn’t believe how it felt. Nothing could have prepared him for this. Certainly not his hand. Not the hundreds of ways he’d masturbated in his life. Nothing came close.

  And just as he thought he could stop it no longer, even dropping his jaw to his shoulder more than once, Dalton released him and began to gently suck his balls. Oh, oh, oh! Exquisite! Torture! Exquisite wonderful torture!

  “P-please, Dalton. P-please stop. I’m going to cum!”

  But instead of stopping, Dalton let out a cry and took Lucas’s cock back into his hot, wet mouth, and it was over. Lucas thought he would die from the pleasure of it. A shock traveled through his entire body, and he unleashed a lifetime of need into Dalton’s mouth, his semen jetting out of him and into the love of his life. Dalton swallowed greedily, moaning almost as loudly as Lucas cried.

  He thought he would black out. Maybe he did? For then Dalton was on top of him and lightly kissing him and using tongue to ask for permission for more. Lucas opened his mouth, accepted Dalton in, tasted himself, and felt his cock hardening again (if it had ever really gone soft). They kissed for a long moment, but that taste reminded him of what he really wanted. He pushed at Dalton’s chest and somehow managed to get him to roll off, and then he just kept rolling until he was on top. Dalton had no shirt to unbutton—and did Rebecca still have it? he wondered for less than a second—and at last he could worship that chest. Touch it and kiss it, make love to it, find Da
lton’s nipples and suck on them and delight in feeling them harden in his mouth and how soft that hair was on his tongue.

  Now it was his turn to travel down, down, down that lightly furry belly to the place the skin disappeared into Dalton’s pants. The bulge in those trousers looked huge. Much bigger than he remembered. Could the fabric make it look that big?

  Time to find out.

  He had Dalton’s pants undone just as fast as Dalton had had his, and suddenly there it was (at last!): Dalton’s erection.

  It was bigger. Lucas was sure of it.

  But Dalton had been thirteen then. He was eighteen now.

  It was beautiful.

  Thick, so thick Lucas could barely get his hand around it. And long. Longer than Lucas’s own modest six inches. It was surrounded by a soft forest of hair that looked almost sculpted—a soft pillow for Dalton’s cock to rest upon. It throbbed in Lucas’s hand, and a big crystalline drop formed at the head.

  Lucas had to have it.

  He licked it off, and his tongue tingled and delighted at the taste while Dalton cried out. Then he was taking it in his mouth, and God, if being sucked was pleasure, this was even more.

  It was so alive!

  The feel of the skin and the taste and the musky scent. It filled his mouth, and his sore jaw objected, and his sore jaw be damned. He took as much into his mouth as he could before gagging and retreating a bit and experimenting until, yes, he could take it deep, and he began to suck in earnest. He let his tongue move and massage the underside and was rewarded with more fluid, and he sucked more. Now Dalton’s fingers tangled in his hair, and Dalton was crying, telling Lucas how much he loved him, and it was music.

  Lucas found he couldn’t stop. He thrust his own erection against Dalton’s leg. Couldn’t stop bobbing and sucking and seeing how deep he could go. He played with Dalton’s big balls, wanted to taste them too—like Dalton had done—but he just couldn’t stop. He wanted Dalton. He wanted all of Dalton.

  “Oh! Oh, baby. I… I’m going to…!”

  Yes, yes, yes!

  Please!

  And Dalton poured into Lucas’s mouth, thick jet after jet after jet, and any fear that he’d ever had that he wouldn’t like it was cast away in less than an instant. It was thick and sweet, so sweet, with only the slightest tang. He swallowed and swallowed and swallowed again, and then before he could stop himself, he was riding another orgasm, shooting all over Dalton’s pants leg.