Mission: Carnal

by Mary Winter

  The guy was his mission.

  Mack knew it in his gut, and as the man pushed a stoneware mug of coffee and a banana across the table, he realized he didn’t know his name. “So what can I call you?” he asked as he wrapped his hands around the mug. Warmth seeped into his palms. He inhaled the rich aroma, and his stomach rumbled.

  “Adrian, though you probably know that already.” He poured himself a mug of coffee and sat down. “So talk. How’d you get here?”

  Mack sipped his steaming brew. “I’m the toy you repaired.” He stuck out his leg and wiggled his toes. “You put my feet back on. Fixed my body. And poof! I’m here.” He grinned and peeled the banana.

  “So you’re saying you used to be an action figure? A toy? You do bear an uncanny resemblance to him. And you sound like that voice I heard.” Adrian pressed his lips closed, and Mack wondered what they’d feel like wrapped around his cock.

  “So you heard me?” Pride surged through his body. “Did you feel me, too?” Mack lifted the banana to his mouth. He formed an oval with his lips, then put the end into his mouth. Carefully, he chewed and swallowed, before taking another bite.

  “Yeah, I heard you,” Adrian admitted in a rough voice. “So that was you?”

  Mack nodded. He polished off the fruit, washing it down with a cup of coffee. That was the first food he’d had in… “Hey, what year is it?”

  “Year? 2008.”

  “Damn.” Mack gave a low whistle.

  “What year did you think it was?” Adrian frowned.

  “The last I knew it was 1971, but a lot of time has passed since then. I don’t remember much of it.” Mack raked his fingers through his hair.

  “What do you remember? Because according to the date on your -- the figure’s butt, you were made in 1996.” He stood and grabbed the coffee pot, setting it on a trivet in the middle of the table. “I think we’re going to need more of this.”

  Mack nodded. “I was in Vietnam on my second tour. We were pinned down by heavy fire and then nothing. I was shot. Don’t know where or the details, except it killed me. Heaven. Hell. None of that exists. At least not for me. Some kind of purgatory. The Toymaker told me I wasn’t quite good enough for Heaven and not quite bad enough for Hell. So I had a choice. I could come back, or I could stay in limbo. So, he sent me back as an action figure. Then I lost my feet. The Toymaker told me I was special, destined for another mission, and here I am.” He shrugged. “Look, I’m just a soldier. Always have been. Philosophy is not my strong suit. All I know is that I’m here, and apparently you’re my next mission.”

  “Really?” Adrian drawled.

  Mack rose to his feet. Adrian’s disbelief hurt more than it should have. After all, if their roles had been reversed, he doubted he’d be so trusting. Pushing in the chair, he walked around it. He stood beside Adrian, then dropped to his knees. “Let me show you that I’m the one you heard.” He rested his palm on Adrian’s thigh.

  Adrian flinched. Mack noticed Adrian’s erection, tantalizingly close. It pressed against Adrian’s jeans, as erect as it had been last night in the tub. Mack curled his fingers. “Come on. What do you have to lose?”

  Turning in his chair, Adrian spread his knees. “What are you going to do, give me a blow job?” His hands reached for the button on his jeans.

  “Is that what you want?” Mack struggled to keep his voice even, not to give in to the hunger rearing to life inside him. Behind the buttons of his military trousers, his dick throbbed. His balls hung full and heavy between his legs, his all-too-human body raring to experience sex for the first time in over thirty years.

  Mack chuckled.

  “What’s so funny?” Adrian asked.

  “Sorry. Just realized that I am a very old man.”

  Adrian leaned forward and combed his fingers through Mack’s hair. “You don’t look much over thirty to me.”

  “Good.” Mack covered Adrian’s hands with his own. “Let me.” He unfastened the button, lowering the zipper on the jeans. Some things hadn’t changed, he thought as he revealed Adrian’s cock. Mack curled his fingers around the shaft. It lay thick in his palm, the head flushed purple. Veins roped the shaft and a drop of fluid leaked from the eye.

  Last night he’d held memories in his mind. Today, he held reality in his hand. Curling his fingers around Adrian’s shaft, Mack stroked it from base to tip. The slow caress had Adrian’s breathing deepening. The musky scent of his arousal teased Mack’s senses, and he leaned forward to get a taste.

  Adrian groaned as Mack licked the head of his cock. He swirled his tongue over it, then worked his way down the shaft and back up again. Wrapping his lips around its girth, Mack drew the organ into his mouth ever so slowly until he had taken nearly all of Adrian’s length. Mack relaxed his throat muscles and took even more.

  Mack braced one hand on the hard muscles of Adrian’s thigh. The other reached between his legs to fondle his balls. Yeah, some things never changed. The springy curls teasing his nose and lips, the taste of a man, and the feel of a hard cock sliding down his throat. Mack moaned as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked.

  Adrian cupped the back of Mack’s head. His fingers clenched, working in time with Mack’s long pulls on his dick. Sure, he’d done this last night, or at least had imagined it. However, this time Mack had the real deal. A thick cock in his mouth, balls filling his hands, and most of all, the promise of reciprocation. Or at least he hoped so.

  In the years since his death, he’d all but forgotten the pleasure of wrapping his lips around a thick shaft and sucking. Listening to Adrian’s husky moans made Mack’s cock rock-hard. He longed to reach between his legs and unfasten his trousers. He didn’t. Not until Adrian came. Then, they’d see how far this went.

  Mack slid his lips from Adrian’s cock long enough to wet a finger and reach between Adrian’s legs. The man hissed as the thick digit found his anus and pressed. It slipped inside. The furnace of his body surrounded Mack’s finger. His hips bucked, and once more, Mack wrapped his lips around Adrian’s cock.

  With just a few strokes and a swirl of his tongue, Mack had Adrian dancing between his lips and his finger. Hollowing out his cheeks, he drew Adrian deeper. The salty taste of Adrian’s pre-cum burst on his tongue. Laving the knot of nerves just beneath the head, Mack willed him to orgasm.

  And Adrian did. He moaned, his rod swelling inside Mack’s mouth. One final thrust deep into Mack’s throat, his finger penetrating Adrian to the first knuckle, and Adrian’s cock erupted. Hot streams of come spilled down Mack’s throat. He swallowed, licking every drop before sliding his lips from Adrian’s shaft.

  Mack sat back on his heels. If Adrian had doubted him before… hopefully those doubts were erased. He was the same man who had sucked Adrian’s cock last night, and if his mission worked out, he’d be doing it every night for the rest of their lives. Deep in his gut, where intuition and adrenaline lived, he knew what his mission was: make Adrian believe in love. And from where he was sitting, it was a tall order. But he was more than the soldier for the mission. He wouldn’t fail.

  The front door slammed open. Adrian jerked upright, hastily tucking his shaft back into his pants and buttoning them.

  “Honey, I’m home.” A male voice boomed through the house.

  “Get up,” Adrian hissed, gesturing to the chair. “He can’t see you like that.”

  Mack straightened. He scurried back to his chair and grabbed the mug of coffee. He figured his mission had just gotten more difficult.

  Chapter Three

  Adrian stared at the man sitting across from him, his heart hammering a mile a minute. If Dean saw him like this… he shoved the thought from his mind. Bolting to his feet, he lurched toward the cupboard. Grabbing the skillet out of it, he fired up the electric stove and grabbed eggs and bacon. He started breakfast. “Hungry?” he asked Mack.

  “You bet,” Mack replied, his voice guarded.

  Damn it, he’d gotten off on the wrong foot.

  “Adrian?”
Dean’s voice echoed in the living room.

  “In the kitchen. Want breakfast?” Yeah, that was smart, telling Dean he could come over any time. He tended to do so at inconvenient moments, like when he wanted fed. Dean and he had been a couple once, but not for long. Both men had quickly realized they did better as friends, and business partners, than as fuckbuddies. In fact, Dean had encouraged them to open The Fantastic Five, and it hadn’t taken long for the idea to take off.

  Dean poked his head into the kitchen. His hair looked freshly highlighted, the blond streaks looking as if they’d come from the sun instead of an expensive bottle. Sunglasses shielded his blue eyes from Adrian’s gaze, and he wore, in deference to his upcoming vacation, a pair of worn jeans, even grungier sneakers, and a rock band t-shirt. He grinned when he saw Mack. “So this was why you sounded startled. Finally made a score, did you?” He leaned over the stove and audibly inhaled. “Even cooking breakfast. This one must be serious.” He kissed Adrian on the cheek.

  Adrian stiffened.

  “Yeah, must be serious if you don’t like me doing that,” Dean breathed in his ear, flicking the shell with his tongue. As if nothing had happened, Dean strolled to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat on it backwards. “So how long have you known Adrian?”

  “Several months,” Mack replied.

  Adrian glanced over his shoulder. He supposed if you included the time Mack was an action figure that was an accurate timeframe. He caught Dean’s gaze and the man’s arched eyebrow. “We met through work,” he supplied helpfully.

  “Oh? You in the comics industry? I’m sure Adrian has told you all about our store.” Dean rose long enough to grab a mug from the kitchen cupboard, then poured the last of the coffee.

  Adrian turned the bacon, wishing now he’d never started to cook. He wanted to be at the table, running interference between Mack and Dean. Except he’d never been any good at that. Their buddy Van had played football, not him. Adrian shoveled the crisp bacon onto a stack of paper towels, then reached for the coffee mug he’d brought with him.

  “Adrian has that fresh-fucked look. Surprised he let you have sex so soon,” Dean chuckled.

  Adrian nearly choked. If Dean only knew… He cracked several eggs into the large skillet.

  “You okay back there? Don’t die before I get my breakfast!” Dean called.

  Adrian sputtered, finally managing to get past the brew that had tried to go down the wrong pipe. “I won’t. Don’t worry, Mack. Dean sounds like a conceited SOB, but he’s really a softie at heart.”

  “I’m rarely soft. But then you knew that.”

  Adrian struggled not to choke again. Damn Dean and his smart-ass remarks.

  “Well, if he looks like that now, imagine how he’ll look when we --”

  “Breakfast is ready,” Adrian called over Mack’s words. Just in time, too, though his stomach churned so much he doubted he could eat. Still, with Dean stuffing food in his mouth, maybe he wouldn’t have time to ask so many questions. And give me time to come up with some answers. He brought three plates from the cupboard and arranged bacon and eggs onto them. Pushing a plate at each man, Adrian returned to the kitchen long enough for silverware and napkins. He distributed them and grabbed his plate. He glanced longingly at the coffee mug on the counter, realizing he’d forgotten it. The empty carafe sat in the middle of the table. Yep, leave it to Dean to drink all the coffee.

  Mack dove into his food as if he hadn’t eaten for years, which, since he’d been an action figure, Adrian figured was the case.

  “Adrian must have worked you hard. You’ve got quite an appetite.” Dean gestured with his fork.

  Mack grunted in response. He bolted down the last piece of bacon, then reached for his mug. “Looks like we’re out of coffee.”

  “I’ll get it.” Adrian jumped from his seat and grabbed the carafe. Under other circumstances, he’d enjoy showing Mack how to use his combination coffee and espresso machine. With the way his luck was running this morning, Mack would probably mention newfangled technology. For all he knew Mack used a percolator, since the filter-type machines were less than a decade old when Mack had died. Adrian loved his coffee, and he’d love introducing the new varieties to Mack.

  Adrian shuddered. Mack had died. Though he sat living and breathing in front of him, at one time, the man had been a corpse. He struggled to act normal as he added water and set another brew cycle. Soon, the pungent aroma of coffee filled the kitchen, and he returned to the table to find Dean watching him intently.

  “A few months, huh?” He finished his breakfast and wiped his mouth on a napkin. “You know, it took you nearly a year to sleep with me.”

  “You’re not lovers now?” Mack asked with a grin.

  Dean laughed. “You thought? Oh, hell, no!”

  “Hey!” Adrian protested. “Now it wasn’t that bad.”

  “Not if you like the staid, boring, button-down types. No, Adrian and I were lovers back when we first met, but it didn’t take long for us to just be friends. We’re business partners now in the comic store. I’m sure he mentioned his friends sometime before he got you into bed.”

  “He did, yeah.” Mack glanced at the coffeemaker.

  “You know, Adrian usually has to get your life history and see your medical records before he sleeps with you. You must be something special to get him to act so quickly.” Dean stood. “Look, before I ruin your happy home here, I just wanted to stop by and let you know that I’ll be at the shop later. I want to pick up a project or two before I leave on vacation.”

  “You’re going to the Caribbean and you’re going to take an action figure?” Adrian shook his head. “Always knew you were crazy.”

  “Hey, I got plenty of windsurfing to keep me busy. But I have to do something when the sun goes down.” Dean held out his hands in a gesture of innocence.

  Adrian knew Dean protested just a little too much. He had no doubts his friend would be on the beach during the day and in the bars at night. Undoubtedly he’d return with tales of his conquests, both in and out of the water. “Like you’ve ever lacked for that,” Adrian replied dryly.

  “Hey, some of us need sex more than once a year.” Dean circled the table and punched Adrian in the arm. “Some of us like our fuckbuddies.”

  “Fuckbuddy?” Mack rolled the unfamiliar term around in his mouth. “Never heard it called that before.”

  Adrian’s stomach fell.

  Dean turned to Mack, a look of utter disbelief on his face. “You’ve never heard of the word fuckbuddy?” He arched an eyebrow. “Either you’re as out of it as Adrian, or you’ve been living in a cave for the last few years.” He shook his head and turned for the door.

  “A cardboard box, actually,” Mack replied, soft enough that Adrian hoped -- more like prayed -- Dean hadn’t heard him.

  “Don’t forget. I’ll come by the shop later. Thanks for breakfast.” Sketching a wave in the air, Dean headed for the door. It closed behind him.

  “Is he always like that?” Mack asked. He gathered up the plates and carried them to the sink.

  “Don’t worry about them. I’ll put them in the dishwasher later.” Adrian hurried to the kitchen and rinsed the skillet and spatula, unsure if Mack would have been familiar with dishwashers.

  Adrian stilled as Mack rested his hands on the counter on either side of him. He pressed against Adrian’s back, pinning him. Releasing a breath, Adrian relaxed against him and closed his eyes. He relished the closeness. It’d been long, far longer than even Dean had known, since he’d experienced such intimacy, and his cock hardened.

  “Is it true?” Mack asked, his husky voice caressing already aroused nerve endings. “What Dean said about you not getting involved too quickly?” Leaning forward, he nuzzled the side of Adrian’s neck.

  Adrian sighed and tilted his head to allow greater access. “Yeah. It’s true.” He swallowed hard.

  Mack slid his right hand from the counter to cup Adrian’s hip. His big fingers splayed across th
e front of Adrian’s jeans, inching closer to his erection. “So if I take you right here then, you’ll be charting new territory.” He chuckled. “What do you think?” He slid open the button of Adrian’s jeans. His fingers toyed with the zipper tab, pulling it down a few centimeters, then up again.

  Adrian allowed his eyelids to flutter closed. Braced between Mack’s hard body and the counter, he tried to remain in control. The delicious anticipation of hearing the zipper rasp down ended as the zipper pulled back to its top. The teasing continued, each motion punctuated by Mack stroking the back of his knuckles across the denim of Adrian’s fly. Finally, Mack tugged the zipper all the way down with short, halting pulls.

  His cock surged into Mack’s warm hand. Strong fingers circled it. With him nestled against Adrian, the hard ridge of his erection nudged Adrian’s buttocks. “Yes,” Adrian hissed, realizing just how long it’d been since he had allowed himself to feel. There was no analyzing this situation. A man turned action figure turned man defied all logic.

  “If you’ve waited for this, then I’ve waited longer.” Mack nipped Adrian’s neck where it met the shoulder. He moved away just long enough to unbutton his pants. They fell to the floor with a heavy thud, and he pressed blessedly naked against Adrian. “You have a nice ass,” he growled, pumping his hips against Adrian’s still-denim-covered globes.

  Adrian swallowed hard. Though he had come earlier, he was ready for action. Reaching behind him, he cupped Mack’s hips, grinding his ass into the man’s naked cock. A distant part of his mind told him to slow down, to take his time, that Mack had been an action figure. The rest of his mind had been blown by Mack’s talented mouth.