2016 Top Ten Gay Romance

by Snyder, J. M. ; Black, Becky; Creech, T. A.

  “I want.” Scott began to unbutton Mark’s shirt. “I don’t really have a clue, but if you’re willing to tolerate a lot of fumbling, maybe we can make it work.” He pulled the shirt tail loose and ran his hands down across Mark’s chest, feeling the definition of muscles and the crinkle of chest hair. Burying his face in the side of Mark’s neck, he inhaled, breathing in the scent of soap, a hint of cigarette smoke and musky male sweat. Mark fumbled at Scott’s belt. Scott laughed slightly. “Maybe you better leave that buckled until we get upstairs. I can just see this ending in a 911 call because I broke something falling down the stairs with my pants around my ankles.”

  “That would require quite a bit of explaining.” Mark let go of the belt buckle and palmed Scott’s crotch instead.

  Well on the way to being hard, Scott groaned. “Bedroom.”

  Upstairs, stripping out of their clothes took very little time and they fell naked onto the bed, groping and kissing. Mark reached between them and began to stroke Scott’s dick. Lord that felt good. Maybe too good. “Hang on, if you keep doing that I’m gonna be done in, like, two minutes.”

  Mark nipped at Scott’s chin. He rolled over, grabbed some items out of the nightstand, and slapped a tube of KY into Scott’s hand. “Get me ready.”

  “If it hurts, tell me to quit, okay?”

  “Yeah.” Mark lay on his back, knees bent.

  Scott slicked up his fingers and hesitated. It wasn’t like he hadn’t heard about how this worked. It was a human body. Penis. Hole. Insert. Repeat. Only…women were angled different and if they were wound up, no extra lube was required. Hell, he’d never even ass-fucked a woman.

  “Scott, if it hurts too bad…I’ll yell or something. Just do it.”

  Looking down at Mark’s cock, rigidly erect against his belly, dripping, Scott changed tactics. He dipped his head and licked up the underside of Mark’s dick. Mark moaned a little. It didn’t taste half as weird as Scott had thought, warm and vaguely salty, a hint of bitter as his tongue dragged across the tip.

  “Jesus…” Mark muttered.

  Not quite so apprehensive now, Scott pushed a finger between Mark’s butt cheeks, sliding across the puckered opening, rubbing back and forth before pressing the tip of his finger in. Mark’s body tensed for a moment then relaxed.

  “Keep going,” Mark said.

  Scott inched his finger in a bit further, then pulled it back out, added more lube and did it again. Mark made a low noise that sure as hell didn’t sound like pain. A few more tentative motions and Scott’s finger was buried inside the tight hot space as far as it would go.

  Mark writhed and mumbled, “More.”

  Scott finger fucked him about a half dozen more times and then Mark arched his back and blew his load up across his belly, in hard creamy spurts. Finally Mark relaxed, breathing in pants.

  “I was under the impression I was supposed to…” Scott said.

  “Yeah…oh God, I didn’t expect it to feel like that. I feel like some teenager with no fucking control.”

  Scott laughed. Mark began to giggle and Scott buried his face against Mark’s thigh and laughed until he was out of breath.

  Mark petted Scott’s hair. “Plan B. I blow you.”

  When Scott lifted his head to look at Mark, the look he got was smoldering lust. “Okay.” He lay down beside Mark and Mark slid down the bed a ways, first stroking Scott a few times then licking. Scott shuddered a little, his body already revved up. Mark took the tip of Scott’s dick in his mouth and sucked, all the while maintaining a firm grip with his hand. Scott bucked reflexively into the wet heat and Mark gagged and coughed. “Damn, sorry.” Scott apologized.

  “S’okay,” Mark mumbled then snickered. “Porn always makes this look easy.”

  “I think there might be a practice factor involved.”

  “Ya think?” Mark began to suck him again, one hand pushing down on Scott’s hip.

  Scott fisted his hands in the sheets, control hanging by a thread. “So close.” His one barely coherent thought was he had no idea if his lover was a spit or swallow kind of guy, and then his climax hit like a lightning strike. Mark must have moved his face because Scott felt the warm splatter of come on his belly and one leg.

  On hands and knees above Scott, Mark lowered himself down, his weight pressing Scott into the mattress, kissing him.

  “God…” Scott muttered against Mark’s mouth.

  They both lay immobile for a bit before Mark slid off and stretched out beside him.

  “I suppose there ought to be some clean up,” Mark said.

  “Mmm, yeah maybe. You still want to try…having me…?”

  “Later.”

  Neither moved and they both fell asleep.

  * * * *

  Mark: 2004

  Word of a shooting involving another cop always spread through the city in mere minutes. Mark was halfway out the door of his precinct to go talk to a witness on a case when he heard.

  “Who was it?” he asked of a colleague.

  “A senior uniform guy. I think the name was Hedrich.”

  Mark’s mouth went dry and his heart stuttered. “Is he okay?”

  “I’m not sure. Word is there was a fatality but I don’t think it was the cop.”

  “Where?”

  “Down around the end of embassy row. Near 16th Street.”

  Mark turned and immediately headed for his car. Please, please let Scott be okay.

  It took him more than twenty minutes to get there, listening to the chatter on the radio all the way. An ambulance had been called but there didn’t appear to be any frantic comments. There wasn’t a pursuit in progress or a request for a chaplain either. That was good wasn’t it?

  Pulling up behind a squad car, Mark got out and hung his badge on a lanyard around his neck, in plain view for the uniforms controlling access to the scene. He ducked under the crime tape and went toward the nearest uniformed officer.

  “Detective Stenner,” he identified himself. “Who was involved?”

  “A senior beat cop named Hedrich and some asshole who robbed a pawn shop,” said the officer.

  “Is Hedrich okay?” A shiver of fear coursed through Mark.

  “A little dinged from taking a dive on the sidewalk but yeah.” The officer pointed toward a cluster of cops half a block down the street near an ambulance.

  Mark hurried toward them. He finally saw Scott, sitting on the curb, elbows on knees, head down, a gauze bandage around one hand. Mark dropped to one knee beside him. “Tell me you’re all right.”

  Scott looked up. He had a slightly dazed and shell shocked expression. “I’m okay.”

  “There was a shooting?”

  “Yeah, I was chasing some dumb ass who thought robbing a pawn shop in broad daylight was a brilliant maneuver. He pulled a gun and took a shot at me. I…I shot back. Jesus fuck, Mark…he bled out in about thirty seconds while I was calling for backup and an ambulance. I’ve only fired my gun at another human being once before that, and nobody fucking died that time.”

  “You did what you were trained to do. If he shot at you, you were well within regs to return fire,” Mark said.

  “IA already took my weapon.”

  “Yeah, that’s standard protocol.”

  “I guess there’ll be an investigation,” Scott said.

  “Always. They’ll probably put you on a couple days of leave.” Mark squeezed Scott’s shoulder. Mark would have preferred to wrap both arms around Scott and hold him tight. “How much longer do you need to stay? I’ll give you a lift. You probably have no business driving right now.”

  “IA told me to stay put until the coroner arrives to put his signature on the death certificate.”

  Mark pointed a thumb toward the forensic people over near the body. “Looks like that might be happening right now. Who did IA send?”

  “Weflen.”

  “Okay, let’s go find him and see if you’re free to leave.”

  Mark helped Scott to his feet
. It only took a couple of additional minutes to find the Internal Affairs man and get permission to leave, with the accompanying promise to appear for the formal inquiry the next day. The drive toward Scott’s home was silent, with Scott staring blindly out the window.

  Before they reached the neighborhood where Scott lived, Mark pulled the car into the parking lot behind a gas station. It was a quiet spot secluded by trees. Mark got out of the car and went around to the passenger side, opening the door.

  Scott gave him a puzzled look and got out. “Why are we here?”

  Mark pulled Scott into his arms and did exactly what he’d been so desperate to do at the scene, he held his lover in his arms and kissed the man. “Because I needed five minutes alone just to reassure myself that you’re still in one piece.”

  A lop-sided smile tugged at Scott’s mouth, and a tear slid down his cheek. He bent his head to rest on Mark’s shoulder. “I watched him die. I shot him and then he just laid there bleeding gallons of blood and then he just…he stopped breathing and there was nothing I could do. If he hadn’t pulled the gun, if he hadn’t taken a shot at me…”

  Kissing Scott’s temple, Mark whispered. “It could have been you lying there bleeding out. You did what you had to. It comes with the job, the nasty, cold, soul killing part of the job. Scott, it could have been you.”

  He held Scott for as long as he dared. Mark wished he could take Scott to a hotel and hold him until morning, just the two of them, but it couldn’t happen. Scott needed to go home to his wife and daughter.

  “I hope nobody called Lynn. It’d be better if she heard about what happened from me,” Scott said.

  “True.” Mark kissed him one more time and then they both got back in the car and drove toward Scott’s house.

  * * * *

  Scott: 2005

  Working a case together was both fabulous and unadulterated hell at the same time. The case itself was a messy, multi-jurisdictional thing that involved three precincts across both Maryland and Virginia state lines, and was being overseen by the FBI. Meth dealing mixed with prostitution, liberally sprinkled with five homicides so far. Scott was serving as extra manpower in interviewing witnesses.

  He saw Mark nearly every day. Being able to talk to him face to face was great. Not being able to touch him was damn near torture.

  Right at that moment he could see Mark across the squad room, sitting at a computer, typing while talking on the phone. Scott was sorting mug shots to be shown to a witness tomorrow.

  As the day was drawing to a close, Mark came over and sat on the edge of the desk Scott was using. “I’m done, well for the day anyway. You know that University of Maryland’s got a ball game on the tube tonight.”

  “I’m assuming this means you’re planning on watching it.”

  “Hopefully. I told Crowder that barring dead bodies and explosions I was unavailable tonight,” Mark said.

  “And did he give you the death glare?” Scott asked. Crowder was an FBI agent with a reputation for an evil hard ass attitude.

  “Yeah, a little. So, the question is, do you have time to come over and hang out and watch the game?”

  Scott made a face, and met Mark’s gaze. They both knew the game was mostly an excuse for them to steal a couple of hours together. “Let me find out if Lynn’s got plans I need to be there for tonight.”

  “Okay. I’m about to head out. Call me if you can’t make it. Otherwise, just show up.”

  * * * *

  The game had already started by a couple of minutes when Scott got to Mark’s house. He let himself in. He’d had a key for years, for many reasons.

  Mark came into the hallway, beer bottle in hand. “They’re losing by a couple baskets already.”

  “Were you actually planning on watching the game?” Scott teased.

  “Hell, no.” Mark clutched the front of Scott’s uniform shirt and pulled him into a kiss. “I was planning on having you have another go at screwing me.” Mark looked vaguely embarrassed. “I watched a video. I thought it would make it easier to figure it out.”

  Scott chuckled. “Oh really…mmm, we’ll see if it helps.”

  They left the TV on downstairs and hurried up to the bedroom, hastily stripping. Scott paused for a moment to gaze at Mark as he stretched out on the bed. How long had they known each other? Twelve years? That sounded about right. The physical thing had only been during the past four, every time a stolen moment, sometimes as short as five risky minutes for a kiss. The number of actual full nights they’d spent together, just the two of them, would fit on one hand. Tonight Scott could maybe justify four hours, and he wanted each and every one.

  Scott knelt on the bed and stroked a hand down Mark’s chest, all the way down to his hip, watching Mark’s hard cock twitch.

  Mark reached out and pulled Scott down on top of him. “What do you say we take the edge off first?” He ground up against Scott’s groin. Scott groaned, enjoying the sensation of his own arousal pressed against Mark’s. Mark tipped them both sideways and reached between them to close his hand around both their cocks. He jerked them both while Scott ravaged Mark’s mouth.

  So close. Scott came with a toe-curling pleasure. Eyes closed, he heard Mark gasp seconds later. Scott pressed a kiss against his lover’s jaw.

  “That was fast enough to make me think I’m nineteen again,” Scott said.

  “Like I said, something to take the edge off. I want the next round to be slower.” Mark leaned over the edge of the bed and picked up a t-shirt to wipe up the mess between them.

  Momentarily sated, they lay on the bed, legs tangled.

  “I wonder if Maryland ever got ahead,” Scott asked.

  Mark grinned. “Basketball and beer break?”

  “Yeah.”

  They both ambled down the stairs, buck naked, snagged a beer from the fridge, and spent a half dozen minutes watching the game. It wasn’t long though before Mark had his arm slung around Scott’s shoulder and was nuzzling against Scott’s neck.

  “Time for a rematch?” Scott asked.

  “Yeah.”

  Back upstairs, Mark slapped a tube of slick into Scott’s hand. “Do me.” He knelt on the bed, and braced his hands on the mattress, knees apart.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to lie down first?”

  “Try it this way. The…um…the video seemed to indicate it could work this way.”

  “So you watched gay porn.”

  “Um, a couple minutes, for pointers, I mean…“ Mark’s face flushed pink.

  “Okay, we can try.”

  Scott slicked up his fingers and slipped them between Mark’s ass cheeks, rubbing first before inserting a finger. Mark huffed out a moan and stroked his prick a couple of times. “You okay?” Scott asked.

  “Yeah, God…that feels good. More.”

  Scott obliged, working his partner open. He was mildly surprised at how turned on Mark was by the actions. Not that he was a whole lot less worked up himself. “Is that enough?”

  “Go for it. We’ll find out.”

  Scott rolled a condom on and added a batch more lube on top, then he lined himself up and thrust in just a bit. There was a hitch in Mark’s breathing and Scott wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. “Did that hurt?”

  “Maybe just a little.”

  “I can stop.”

  “No. Keep going.”

  A few shallow thrusts, trying to get Mark used to the feel, Scott wondered if he was going to be done way too soon. The deliciously snug heat of Mark’s body around him was amazing.

  Mark groaned and rocked back against Scott slightly. “Jesus…okay, it burns a little but God…”

  They finally found a rhythm which probably lasted all of about two minutes before Mark’s body was clenching around Scott’s prick with the throes of orgasm. Scott slammed into his lover a couple more times before he came himself.

  Done, the two of them sank onto the bed, Scott rolling Mark over and kissing him with fervor.

  “That
was fucking amazing.”

  Mark petted Scott’s hip and looked up at him. Those gray eyes were filled with an inscrutable depth of emotion. Scott kissed him again, softer this time. It seemed like every time they managed to steal a few extra hours, the intensity of the feelings between them ratcheted up another notch.

  * * * *

  Scott: 2006

  Why oh, why had he waited until Christmas Eve to try and put the dollhouse together? Scott stared at the instructions, then at the one hundred and eighteen pieces scattered across the floor, then back at the instructions again. Hell, those things might as well have been written in Arabic for as much sense as they made.

  Lynn had taken Kari on a short evening visit to see the grandparents for the holiday. That was supposed to give Scott three or so child free hours to put the dollhouse together. He set the walls up and then couldn’t figure out how to get the floors to stay in. The little blue elevator was supposed to hook on the left side…somehow. Scott flopped backward on the floor of the basement and stared at the ceiling. He needed a freaking miracle…or maybe just technical assistance. Mark had the know how to totally disassemble a car engine and put it back together without even having parts left over. Scott hauled himself up off the floor and walked across to the phone and dialed.

  “Hello?”

  “Merry Christmas Eve. I need help,” Scott said.

  “Um, okay. What kind of help?”

  “Kari’s been wanting that dollhouse I told you about the one that cost three hundred and fifty dollars. It came in a box. UPS delivered it.”

  “Is it broken?” Mark asked.

  “No. It’s a kit. All one hundred and eighteen pieces of it. Jesus, Mark, I can’t make heads or tails of the damn instructions.” He could hear Mark laughing. “It’s not funny. I’m an adult. I should be able to put together a child’s toy.”

  Mark was still laughing. “Need I remind you that you were the one who oiled Lynn’s sewing machine with fray check?”

  “Fuck you. How the hell was I supposed to know that stuff was some kind of fabric glue? Please, I need a Christmas miracle.”