From War to Forever

by Andria Large

  “You should text your brother and dad to let them know,” Dennis signs to me when we get in the car.

  “Yeah, good idea,” I reply and pull my phone out of my pocket. “And Duke too. We can stay with him in Baltimore.”

  Dennis agrees as he starts the car. I text everyone to let them know what the deal is. No sooner do we get home than my phone vibrates. I check the message.

  Tucker, it’s Dr. Hudson. Spoke to the head surgeon at Johns Hopkins. He would like to meet with you as soon as possible. Here is his cell phone number. He wants you to text him ASAP. His name is Dr. Ron Sterling.

  He sends over the doctor’s cell phone number.

  “Holy shit, Denny. Dr. Hudson texted me already.”

  Dennis whips around and comes to my side. He snatches the phone out of my hand to read the text.

  “Oh my God, this is fantastic,” he says, smiling at me.

  “Let me text him,” I say. Dennis hands me back my phone, and I send Dr. Sterling a text.

  After a few texts back and forth with Dr. Sterling, we set up an appointment for next week. In the meantime, he wants me to get an MRI.

  I get everything set up, from the MRI and taking time off from work for the appointment to staying with Duke. Now, it’s just a waiting game.

  DENNIS

  WHEN WE walk into Duke’s house, I’m slightly taken aback by the style. I don’t really know what I expect, but this is not it. His home is a traditional brownstone in the Federal Hill neighborhood of Baltimore, Maryland. I expect his house to be modernized, I guess. Well, it is, but it still looks like it has most of its original features, like all of the woodwork and charm houses used to be built with. It’s very cozy and a nice change from our upscale condo. Tucker and I place our overnight bags by the stairs while Duke shuts the front door. The weather is turning colder now with the start of November, and we shuck our jackets and hang them up in the closet under the stairs.

  Duke moves into the living room, which is through a doorway off to the left of the front door. I shove my hands into my front pockets and follow him. The doorway has a set of beautiful french doors. I look all around at the gorgeous craftsmanship of the home before turning to Duke, who is squatting in front of the stone fireplace, stoking the fire.

  “You’ve got a nice place here, man. I love the woodwork,” I tell him.

  He glances over his shoulder at me and gives me a cocky smirk. “Thanks. Did it myself.”

  I gape at him, shocked he is the handyman type. “What? For real?”

  “Yeah, you’re not the only one who’s got a thing for wood,” he says, sending me a wink.

  I roll my eyes and shake my head. Tucker told me Duke knows about us, so I’m sure this visit is going to be jam-packed with gay jokes.

  “And it starts,” I mutter.

  He snickers as he straightens from poking at the fire.

  “Get used to it.” He grins.

  I hang my head. “Lord, help me.”

  He laughs.

  “So how ya been, bro?” Tucker interjects as he comes up next to me.

  Duke turns toward Tucker so he can read his lips and gives him a noncommittal shrug. “It is what it is.”

  The lightheartedness from our previous ribbing is gone and has been replaced with loneliness and sorrow. I haven’t been told what went down exactly, but I’m pretty sure it has something to do with Duke’s wife and the weekend he spent with us.

  I see Tuck nod from the corner of my eye. His hand finds the small of my back, and I warm at the minute gesture of affection. With my eyes still on Duke, I see he also caught Tucker’s gesture and pain flashes through his hazel eyes. Damn, he’s really had his heart broken. I can’t help but feel for the guy. He quickly hides it by giving us both a pointed look.

  “I don’t want to hear you two fucking, ya dig?” He sneers.

  Tucker and I glance at each other and smile before turning to look back at Duke.

  “Yeah, we’ll try to keep it down,” Tucker teases.

  Duke groans, then pretends to gag.

  Tucker and I chuckle before Tuck claps me on the shoulder and heads for what I’m guessing is the kitchen. “I need a drink,” he states as he walks away.

  I check out his ass in his ever-present sweatpants as he goes.

  “Dude, stop that,” Duke huffs. “It’s just weird.”

  I tear my gaze away from Tuck’s fine ass to smirk at the man plopping his own down onto one of the armchairs set up in front of the fireplace. I shrug.

  “Can’t help it.”

  Duke rolls his eyes, then motions toward the adjacent chair. “Have a seat and tell me what the doctor told Tucker. He’s been oddly vague with me,” he says, and I can hear that it pisses him off.

  I sit and lean forward, resting my forearms on my knees. “I think he doesn’t want to give you, or anyone—including himself—false hope. There’s only a 40 percent chance, if that, that this surgery will work. If he’s able to get the surgery. Tomorrow, when we go to the appointment, it’s to find out if he’s a good candidate or not. If not, then cochlear implants are an option.”

  Duke nods solemnly and turns his concerned gaze toward the fire. I watch him for a moment. He seems off, which worries me.

  “Hey, man, are you doing okay? Is there anything you need to vent about? You know I’m all ears,” I murmur.

  Duke shakes his head and answers without turning my way. “I’ve just got a lot of shit on my mind. All this with Tuck and then other… bullshit,” he says, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s dragging me down a little bit. I’m okay, though.”

  I frown. “Are you sure?”

  He nods and finally glances at me, giving me a tight smile. “I’m sure. I think I’ll feel better after tomorrow, once we find out if he can get this surgery or not.”

  I nod. “Yeah, it’s killing me not knowing. It would be great to not have to get the cochlear implants.”

  Duke grunts in agreement.

  Tucker enters the living room with three already opened bottles of beer. He hands one to Duke and one to me. He drops his ass onto my lap and holds out his beer.

  “Here’s to me getting my hearing back.”

  Duke and I clink our bottles with his before we all take a swig. I settle back into the armchair with Tucker sitting across my thighs. I take another sip of beer as I watch him. The light from the fire gives his already tanned skin the illusion that it’s glowing. And the reflection of it in his eyes makes it look like they’re dancing. Fuck, I’m such a goner for this guy. I have no idea how this happened, and I don’t really care. All I know is that he’s it for me.

  TUCKER

  THE FIRE slowly dies out as we each polish off our third bottle of beer. Dennis and I have to be up early for my appointment. Duke’s having some fun teasing us about switching teams, but it’s time for us to head to bed. I push to my feet and take Dennis’s bottle from him. I also take Duke’s before going into the kitchen to throw them out. When I go back to the living room, I hold my hand out for Dennis.

  “Come on, bedtime,” I say.

  Dennis nods and yawns. He stands, bumps his fist with Duke, then takes my hand. I say good night to Duke, then lead Dennis up the stairs to the spare bedroom. We go about our nightly routines before climbing into bed next to each other.

  Dennis taps my arm. When I look over at him, he asks, “You ready for tomorrow?”

  I nod. “Definitely.”

  He smiles. “Good.”

  I give him a kiss on the lips, then reach over to the lamp and turn it off.

  The next morning after a quick breakfast, we make our way to my appointment, all before Duke even comes downstairs. Using the navigator on his phone, Dennis drives us to the hospital. My stomach is fluttering like mad. I’m nervous and excited and fucking nervous. I’d rather not have the implants attached to my head, so I’m praying I’m a candidate for this surgery. I want my hearing back, not only for Dennis, but for myself. My time for healing is long overdue.

/>   We don’t have to wait long before being called back into a room. Dennis sits on the extra chair, but I’m too full of nervous energy to sit. I pace while we wait for Dr. Sterling. After five minutes, the door opens and in walks an older man with gray hair. He smiles pleasantly and extends his hand to me.

  “Mr. McCoy?”

  I nod and shake his hand.

  “I’m Dr. Sterling. Nice to meet you.”

  “You too,” I reply.

  Dr. Sterling turns to Dennis and shakes his hand. I see Dennis tell him his name. The doctor turns back to me and motions to the patient’s chair.

  “Why don’t you have a seat, Mr. McCoy,” he says as he sits on his little spinning stool.

  “You can call me Tucker,” I tell him as I sit.

  Dr. Sterling looks at me, an eyebrow raised in surprise. “For not being able to hear for four years, Tucker, I’m surprised you talk as well as you do. A lot of people lose the ability to pronounce words correctly.”

  “I can read lips really well. Maybe that has something to do with it?”

  Dr. Sterling smiles. “Maybe.”

  He scans my chart for a moment before jotting down some notes in it. Once he’s done writing, he turns and looks at me. My heart jumps into my throat as I wait for him to say something.

  “Okay, Tucker, here’s the deal. After going over your chart and the results from the MRI, I believe you are a great candidate for this surgery,” he says, finishing with a big, pleased smile.

  I blow out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding and drop my head back against the chair. “Oh, thank God,” I breathe.

  I lift my head and glance at Dennis, who is trying with all his might to contain his excitement. I turn back to Dr. Sterling. “So what happens now?”

  Dr. Sterling explains the surgery, what the recovery will be like, and what my chances are of being able to hear when it’s over. He also wants to do it as soon as possible. He has me sign all of the pre-op paperwork since I’m already here, then walks us up to the front desk. He has the receptionist check his schedule to see when I can be fit in. The first available appointment is in two weeks. Dr. Sterling says to book it and shakes my hand.

  “I’m looking forward to seeing you in two weeks,” Dr. Sterling says.

  “Same here,” I say with a smile.

  “See you soon,” he replies before shaking Dennis’s hand and turning to leave.

  As Dennis and I leave the office, I’m flying high. Excited doesn’t even seem like a strong enough word for what I’m feeling right now. When we step out of the building and onto the sidewalk, Dennis grabs my arm and yanks me into a big bear hug. I sigh against his neck, knowing he’s just as happy as I am. This is going to change so much.

  Chapter Twelve

  TUCKER

  I WALK into the condo much later than I normally get home after work. I drop my gym bag on the floor next to the door, toss my keys onto the little table, and hang up my leather jacket on the hook mounted on the wall. I went right from work to the gym today. The past week I’ve felt jittery and nervous. Understandable, since the surgery is only a week away now. So I was trying to expend some of my pent-up energy.

  Dennis is in the kitchen when I walk into the living room. He looks up from where he’s wiping off the breakfast bar. “Where ya been?” he signs.

  “At the gym,” I reply shortly.

  “A heads-up would have been nice.”

  “What are you, my fucking keeper all of a sudden?” I snap and walk down the hallway toward the bedroom we now share.

  Obviously I’m not in a great mood. I just feel irritable. I know I shouldn’t take it out on Dennis, but I can’t really help it. I live with the guy; of course he’s gonna get the brunt of whatever I’m feeling. I tug my tank top over my head as I walk into the bedroom. It’s soaked with sweat. I toss my shirt into my hamper, then go to my side of the dresser and pull out a clean one. Movement catches my eye. When I look up, Dennis is leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Want to tell me what your problem is?” he asks, seeming calm, not angry like I expected.

  I sigh and take a seat on the edge of the bed. Dennis pushes away from the doorframe and comes to sit next to me. He clasps his hands together in his lap and waits for me to answer.

  “I’m just… I have no control over anything right now. I don’t know if the surgery will work. I’m just anxious about the whole thing. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a dick to you.” I sigh.

  Dennis wraps his arm around my shoulders, uses his other hand to grasp my chin, and turns my face toward his.

  “I know you’re stressed out, but everything is going to be okay. If the surgery works, then great. If not, then you get the implants. We’ll still be us, and I will still love you,” I watch his lips say.

  I nod and lean my forehead against his. I sigh heavily, blowing out some of my frustrations. Dennis is right. Everything is going to be fine, no matter what the outcome of the surgery is. Still holding my chin, Denny leans forward and places his soft lips against mine. I cup his cheek, stroking his scruff with my thumb. Dennis pulls back far enough so I can read his lips.

  “And you do have control over something.” He smiles mischievously.

  I quirk an eyebrow. “Oh yeah, what’s that?”

  “Being top or bottom.” He grins.

  I stare at him for a second. Dennis always tops. I’m not sure if he even has any interest in being a bottom. I like bottoming, so I never question it. But if he wants to switch it up, I’m always willing.

  “You want to bottom?” I ask.

  “If you want to top.” He smirks.

  A huge smile splits my face. “Hell yeah.”

  Dennis chuckles and pulls me into a heated kiss. I hum my approval and kiss him back. After a minute, I shove him away and motion for him to move up higher onto the bed. He does as he’s told and lies down at the head of the bed with his hands tucked behind his head. I can see he’s already partially aroused. I kick off my shoes and crawl up the bed to cover his body with mine. His green eyes darken with desire.

  I settle between his spread thighs. Holding myself up on my hands, I stare down at the man I love. God, he’s gorgeous. He gives me a soft, loving smile, and it means everything to me. I lean down and take my time kissing and tasting him. I drag my mouth down to his neck, nipping and sucking over the spots I know drive him crazy. I glide a hand down his side and grasp his hip as I grind against him, rubbing our now fully hard erections together. Dennis’s throat vibrates under my lips, letting me know he’s moaning. I pray I will be able to actually hear him moan in a week.

  I push his T-shirt up so I can kiss his chest. I flick my tongue over his nipples, making him squirm under me. Dennis’s hands tangle in my hair as I kiss my way down his chiseled abs. Slowly I undo his jeans and pull them down his long legs, leaving him in his gray boxer briefs. I move back up to tease him through the cotton. Dennis rolls his hips under me, trying to get me to do more. I flip my eyes up to his face. He’s watching me, his jaw locked, his eyes blazing. That look has my dick pulsing in my sweatpants.

  I shed my pants and briefs, then get rid of Dennis’s underwear. I cover his body with mine and claim his mouth. Dennis’s hands roam over my back and down to my asscheeks, where he gives them a good squeeze. We smile against each other’s mouths. He gives one cheek a sharp smack, causing me to yelp and him to laugh.

  I grind against him, rubbing our aching cocks together. He gasps against my lips, making my stomach flutter with anticipation. I’m going to make this so fucking good for him. I’m going to have him begging me to fuck his ass. Dragging my mouth down to his neck, I reach between us and wrap my hand around his length, stroking slowly. I lick a line up to his ear and nip at the lobe.

  “I can’t wait to be able to hear you moan,” I breathe, my lips brushing against the shell of his ear.

  Dennis shudders under me. I make my way down his body to settle my shoulders between his legs. His
cock still in hand, I swirl my tongue around the head before pulling him completely into my mouth. Dennis’s back arches and his hips thrust forward. I suck and lick at him, driving him crazy.

  I let my mouth pop off him. It’s time to turn the pleasure up a notch. I glance up at him. He’s panting hard, his fists balled up in the sheets. He looks at me. His brows are knit, his need clear on his face. I move to grab the lube off the nightstand. We don’t even bother to put it away anymore.

  I kneel between his legs. I pour some lube in my hand, snap the cap closed, and drop it on the bed next to my leg. I push his left leg up so it exposes him to me better. A peek at his face lets me see that his eyes have widened slightly. A mixture of emotions flits through them—apprehension, excitement, trust.

  I rub my slick fingers over his tight hole. I haven’t even played here yet, so I’m excited to see how he will react. I give Dennis time to relax against my touch before doing anything else. His breathing evens out, and his eyes lock on to mine. I raise a questioning eyebrow, silently asking if he’s okay. He gives me a nod.

  I slowly push my finger past the tight muscles. Dennis bares his teeth, then drops his head to the pillow. I take his cock in my hand again and stroke slowly as I push my finger deeper inside him.

  “Denny?” I rasp.

  Dennis lifts his head to look at me.

  “You okay?”

  He nods before dropping his head back down. I take that as a good sign and slowly fuck him with my finger. I lower my eyes to watch. I can’t help the moan that slips past my lips—the sight is just so sexy. Dennis seems to be enjoying it because his hips are moving in time with my hand, and his hand has made its way down to cup his balls, his fingers rubbing the area in between them and his asshole.