Mission: Carnal

by Mary Winter

  Slowly, so slowly that Adrian’s cock twitched partially to life again, Mack pulled his lips away. He rose to his feet on shaky knees, then turned Adrian around against the workbench. “You ready for me?” Mack pressed his body full length against Adrian’s. Though his cock was still confined in his pants, it pressed insistently against the cleft of Adrian’s buttocks. Mack moved away long enough to open his trousers. Shoving his pants to pool around his ankles, he shuffled forward again.

  “Wait. We need lube.” Adrian frowned. Kicking off his shoes, then stepping from his pants, he moved half naked across the room. Opening up a drawer, he brought back a small bottle and pressed it into Mack’s waiting hand. “There.”

  “You keep lube in your shop?” Mack thumbed open the cap and poured a generous amount into his palm. He stroked himself, the cool liquid drawing a quick inhalation. His palm slid across his dick. And when Adrian presented himself, Mack angled the crown of his penis against Adrian’s hole.

  Adrian braced his hands on the table. “Are you going to take me or not?”

  “Impatient, aren’t you?” Mack tossed the bottle on the workbench. With his hand still slick from lube, he reached around and cupped Adrian’s hardening cock. Mack thrust into Adrian, burying himself to the hilt.

  Oh, sweet Jesus, he wanted to shout, to yell, to do something to celebrate the inferno of Adrian’s body surrounding his dick. Mack didn’t. Instead, he gritted his teeth, promising himself he wouldn’t blow like an untried teenager, and pulled back so slowly Adrian moaned.

  Mack struggled to keep his control. He took Adrian, vowing that soon they’d do this in a bed, with lots of foreplay and no worries. Cupping Adrian, he worked every stroke. And he knew he’d do whatever it took to end this mission successfully.

  * * *

  Adrian braced his hands against the workbench, not quite believing that once again, he’d unbuttoned his pants for Mack more times than for any other man, and now they pooled around his ankles. Mack’s fingers tightened around his shaft, the gentle stroking in time with the thrusts of his cock. Adrian’s balls drew tight.

  His nice, orderly life demanded that he walk away. He couldn’t. Not from the moment he’d seen Mack leaning against his workbench and certainly not now. He bit back the plea that tumbled to his lips.

  Instead, he focused on Mack. The shaft plunging into him filled him to the point of bursting. Fingers tightened around his root.

  “Now!” That husky voice filled his ear, the auditory caress shooting straight down his spine to his balls.

  Adrian groaned. As long as he lived he’d never get enough of this. The thought scared him to the core. This spontaneity, this heat -- he’d never felt anything like it before, and he knew, if he didn’t keep a tight control, it’d burn him.

  His balls tightened, the pressure roaring down his shaft as he came all over Mack’s hands. The white streams of his come hit the side of the table, splashing down. Random, uncontrolled, exactly like his relationship with Mack.

  The GI’s fingers tightened and with a deep moan, he came. Even if he didn’t understand it, he accepted it. Drawing a breath through clenched teeth, Adrian let his chin drop to his chest.

  Mack’s cock softened and slipped from Adrian’s body. He pressed his forehead against Adrian’s back. Grabbing a handful of paper towels, Mack cleaned up Adrian. “You got much more to do in the shop?”

  Adrian blinked, not quite up to thinking about the shop at the moment. “Almost done.” He bent down and pulled up his pants, mentally calculating the minimum he needed to do. “Give me five minutes?”

  “Sure.”

  Adrian turned away from the bench to see Mack straightening his clothing. He cupped Mack’s cheek, pulling the man’s gaze to him. “Then we’ll go home.” It sounded good to say it, even if the words scared him half to death. Once they were there, they had to discuss things. Because right now, all Adrian knew was that Mack’s presence rocked his world. And he wasn’t sure if he liked it, or wanted it to end.

  Chapter Five

  True to his word, Adrian returned to the unofficial offices for The Field Medic in less than five minutes. He glanced at the workbench that Dean used and saw that his friend’s current project, a figure with a painted face, still lay there. “Hey, didn’t Dean get this when he came back here?”

  “Huh?” Mack looked up from the broken action figure in his hands. “This one is too far gone for me.” He looked sad.

  Adrian knew the figure to which Mack referred was missing one leg at the hip joint and had a broken arm. It’d been a pity buy when he jogged past a garage sale. A little boy had offered the action figure and Adrian had paid the kid a dollar. “Yeah, I haven’t gotten around to finding parts for him.”

  “Parts,” Mack muttered. “Was that all I was?” Blue eyes clashed with brown.

  Adrian flinched at the raw pain in Mack’s gaze. “No. Never.” The denial flew from his lips, even before he had time to think about it. “Even when I wasn’t quite sure how I’d fix you, or if I’d even have time, you…” He shook his head, not wanting to romanticize the situation. Except, as he looked at Mack, it was romantic.

  They’d had sex. Pants down, anywhere but the bedroom, balls to the wall sex. Any other thoughts hadn’t crossed his mind. He licked his lips, trying to get a handle on his whirling thoughts.

  “Oh, the figure.” Mack jerked his finger toward the figure on the table. “Yeah, Dean came back here, and I told him to take another one. I wanted to make that one my first fix.” He beamed. “It looked easier than the others.”

  Adrian admitted his lover had a point. Yeah, Mack was his lover. He swallowed hard and hoped his unease didn’t show on his face. “It should be.” He diverted his attention by looking at the figure. With only broken feet, which were traditionally easier repairs, it shouldn’t take long. “He has the same injuries you did.”

  “Can we fix him tonight?” Mack stood and picked up the figure, depositing it carefully in the plastic box that had been sitting next to it.

  “I don’t see why not,” Adrian said. He hadn’t had a chance to discuss the numbers with Dean. The friends weren’t planning on figuring out business until after Dean returned from his vacation. A night off would be a nice change. He chuckled to himself at still another sign that Mack had changed his life in a few short days.

  “Good. I think Dean put everything in the box.” Mack replaced the lid, making sure it was tight. “Ready?”

  Adrian looked from the box to the man holding it. He’d easily fit into Adrian’s life. “Sure,” he said, though he was anything but. He stared at the box containing the figure. “You know, there are others here with similar injuries. Any reason why we’re taking this one in particular?”

  Mack shrugged. “He looks familiar.”

  Adrian didn’t know what to say. Familiar as in someone Mack had known from the military or familiar as in another action figure? Thinking about his action figures talking to each other, having a life… it made his head hurt. He headed toward the back door, knowing Mack would follow, the box with the figure tucked possessively under his arm.

  The car ride back home passed in silence. As he pulled into the garage, Adrian struggled with the awkward space between them. Watching Mack out of the corner of his eye, he tried to reconcile the fact that the man he made love to was from a completely different world. “So what’s the last thing you remember from being alive? Culture wise?”

  Mack thought for a moment. “Bell bottoms. Men and women alike, they hugged the ass.” He grinned as the motor rumbled to a stop.

  “Ewww,” Adrian commented. He looked at Mack, and both men laughed.

  “Yeah, they looked pretty ugly at times. But oh, the pictures they inspired.” Mack grinned like a wild man. “Even in the ugliest colors, they cupped someone’s ass all nice and tight. Made you wish your hands were the fabric and you always wondered if the person wore anything underneath.” He shook his head. “I suppose now you look back at them and hate them.�
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  Adrian grinned lopsidedly. “Actually, they came back in style.” He opened the car door. “Why don’t you bring the figure, and we’ll see what we can do with him. I’ll throw some sandwiches together for supper.”

  Mack lifted the box from the floor between his feet and opened the car door. He followed Adrian inside, where Adrian directed him toward his workroom. “I’ll be just a minute.” Watching Mack’s broad shoulders as he headed toward Adrian’s sanctuary made Adrian realize just how much he needed those few minutes. With Mack out of sight, Adrian turned to the counter. He grabbed a loaf of bread and pulled deli cheese and meats from the fridge. Adding mayo and butter, he arranged it all on a tray with a couple of paper plates, a handful of napkins, and some sodas. He drew a deep breath to steady his churning stomach.

  He’d never let anyone, not even his business partners and friends, work in his sanctuary. Of course, he’d never fucked a man he’d known less than twenty-four hours. Once again, Mack proved himself to be different.

  Adrian grabbed a container of sliced carrots and celery from the fridge to add to the tray and faced the truth. Now that he’d let Mack into his life, the former action figure wasn’t disappearing so quickly. Names, records, birth certificates, social security numbers -- all the things that made living in society possible seemed elusive. If he could employ Mack at the shop and not worry about it, he would, except, that’d be wrong.

  His blood ran cold. He was contemplating committing a crime for this man. His hands shook, rattling the tray so hard he set it on the counter. From the other end of the house, he heard Mack’s excited sounds as he moved around the work room finding this tool or that figure. There was the fact that The Field Medic had more work than it could handle at the moment. An extra set of hands, especially for the easy jobs, would be welcome. Many figures came in missing a foot, or needing a hand replaced.

  Van was a lawyer. As soon as he figured out where this thing with Mack was heading he’d talk to Van. Until then, Adrian banished the thoughts of off-the-books employees and tax evasion from his mind. He picked up the tray and carried it down the hall.

  He offered the food to Mack, though he didn’t want anything. Still, Adrian made him eat a sandwich and snack on some vegetables during an explanation of the process and the tools involved. Then it was his turn to eat while he walked Mack through the detailed work of removing the pins securing the joints, sanding out the opening, and replacing the pins in the joints when they added a new pair of feet.

  Mack was a natural.

  He worked with the figure, his fingers gentle. He cradled it, even talking to it during the procedure. When he finished, he set the toy down on the workbench, clamps affixed to its ankle joints. “I liked doing that. You know, before I was shipped out, I liked doing things with my hands. I used to build models and create miniatures. I think I’d like to do that again.” He swiveled on his stool to face Adrian. “Do you need help at your store?”

  Adrian expelled a breath. “I might, but you don’t have a social security number or a birth certificate. That makes things… difficult.”

  “Not between you and me.” Mack leaned forward. When Adrian hesitated, he rose to his feet and leaned his hip against the workbench. Crossing his arms over his chest, he narrowed his eyes. “Right?”

  “I… don’t know.” Damn it, this wasn’t how he’d envisioned this night to end. Some time spent at the workbench, a bite to eat, and then maybe they could relax in front of his flat screen television and watch a movie or something. “I don’t usually move this fast.”

  “Dean made it sound like you don’t move at all.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” The thought that his current and former lovers might have been discussing him in the back room made him prickly. He’d seen Dean go back there. Knew Mack had taken refuge in the room populated by figures that could have very well been prior versions of himself. Looking back, he realized it seemed ludicrous that they’d not talk about him. Though the entire situation was crazy as far as he was concerned.

  Still, something about Mack had drawn him and continued to do so. Leaning against the workbench, his arms crossed over his broad chest, an old pair of jeans hugging his hips and thighs, he looked delicious enough to eat.

  “I think you’re my mission.” Mack shifted his weight. “I don’t remember a lot. Just fragments here and there. Only the Toymaker sending me back and telling me that I’d have a very special mission. One that would take all my strength and skill. The Toymaker told me I had to fight for what I wanted. I want you.”

  “The Toymaker?” Adrian didn’t know which of Mack’s words to disbelieve more, the fact that there was a deity of some sort for toys or that Mack wanted him. “You’ve been back less than two whole days. How do you know you want me? What if you meet someone else?” There. He’d given voice to the fear that had clutched at his gut ever since he’d found Mack in his workroom. What if Mack didn’t want him anymore?

  “You were destined for me. Just as I was for you. Look, in the world I came from I worked in absolutes. I followed orders and didn’t think about things beyond sleeping, eating, staying alive, and the occasional fuck. Now, one look at you and I see a future. My future, and I want you in it. You put me back together. You made me whole.” Mack leaned forward and tapped on Adrian’s chest. “You did that. No one else.”

  “It’s just hero worship.” Adrian’s heart broke to say the words. “A few weeks, maybe a few months, and you’ll get the hang of things and be out there dating in no time.”

  “How can you say that?” Mack barked. “Don’t you want what we have?” Balling his hands into fists, he strode across the room. His brisk strides made the sneakers he wore sound like combat boots.

  Adrian watched him, following the long, lean lines of muscle and sinew beneath denim, watched as anger flashed in his blue eyes. From the tense set of his jaw to the rigid way he held his hands, Mack looked like a bomb ready to detonate.

  “Well, do you want it or not?”

  “I do.” Adrian’s eyelids fluttered closed as the full weight of his words settled on him. “I want it more than breathing sometimes, but this isn’t how I normally operate. It isn’t what I do.”

  “Dean said you hide away with your numbers because they’re cold and they don’t break your heart.”

  “Sometimes they do,” Adrian whispered, thinking of the profit and loss statement he’d been reviewing for the store. “Even numbers can hurt you.”

  “Life hurts.” In a blink of an eye, Mack crossed the space between them and dropped to one knee. Cupping Adrian’s cheeks in his hands, he gave them each a quick kiss. “Life hurts like hell. And so does death, for that matter. But we’re not living if we’re not feeling. Dean’s made it sound like you’ve locked yourself up in your own, ordered world, never letting your lovers get close. That’s not living, Adrian. This is.” Before Adrian could offer a rebuttal, Mack slanted his mouth across Adrian’s.

  Warmth replaced the chill of denial hovering on Adrian’s lips. Mack’s tongue made Adrian think of him licking other things, of his talented fingers and his delicious cock. When Mack thrust his tongue inside Adrian’s mouth it was like he pried something open deep inside. Light illuminated the darkest corners of Adrian’s soul, and he didn’t like it.

  He reached for Mack, trying to get him to stop. Instead, his fingers curled around Mack’s shoulder and pulled him closer.

  A low moan echoed in Adrian’s chest, partially with wanting, partially in surrender. Adrian melted into Mack, his balls full and throbbing, reminding him of the bliss Mack could bring him. Adrian met Mack’s tongue with a stroke of his own, his fingers tightening on the GI’s shoulder.

  Mack pulled him off the chair, down to the floor, where they rolled in a tangle of limbs and bodies. Hands couldn’t reach far enough. Clothes provided too much of a barrier. And yet, the sublime pleasure of kissing Mack, loving him, made it all seem unnecessary.

  A moment’s parting to draw a
deep breath of air, and then this time it was Adrian kissing Mack. The cynical, analytical part of his mind knew that this would never last. If they didn’t have the issue of Mack being a former action figure, and dying back in the 1970s, then they had the fact that really, he didn’t know a lot about the man. Adrian knew what he liked, though. It was the feel of Mack’s lips firm against his, the sensation of a body honed into a muscled machine pressing against his. The thrust of Mack’s cock against Adrian’s thigh, his palm splayed across Adrian’s ass -- those were the things Adrian vowed to remember.

  “Still don’t believe you’re my mission?” Mack stretched out on top of him, a thigh wedged between Adrian’s. His panting breaths echoed in the room. His shirt had been pulled up to reveal the ridge of his flat abdomen, and Adrian skimmed his fingers along the exposed skin.

  “I think you believe I’m your mission,” Adrian replied. He watched the hurt and anger flash across Mack’s features, quickly banked. “I’m sorry. I quit believing in things a long time ago.” The truth hurt. “Stuff like this doesn’t happen.”

  “Why not? Because you say it doesn’t?” Mack caressed Adrian’s lower lip with his thumb. “Who made you the supreme decider of the universe?” A lopsided smile curved Mack’s lips.

  Maybe he wasn’t angry? Adrian squeezed his eyes closed, hoping that was the case. “Look,” he said when he could finally form words. “Dean’s right. I don’t usually operate like this. Give me some time, okay? Let me think this through.”

  “Don’t think us away.” Mack eased off of Adrian and rose to his feet.

  Adrian followed suit. “I just need some time.” He avoided answering Mack’s questions, figured if he was left to his own devices, that was exactly what he would do. Could he really decline what Mack was offering? Adrian shoved the annoying question aside. “I’ll be in my study.”