by JD Chambers
I rush back to Parker’s side as quickly as I can. After sliding on a condom, I pour some lube into my hand and reach around to stroke his length while I feast on the back of his neck. When I hit a spot halfway between his spine and his ear, his whole body erupts with a shiver and I know I’ve found my spot.
“Keep stroking yourself for me,” I say and move his hand to his cock. I take my already slick fingers and rub tiny circles around my target. It’s still damp from my tongue; adding the lube almost makes it hard not to slide right on in.
When my finger finally breaches his ring of muscles, I bite down onto the spot on his neck. Parker moans. His fist around his cock is fast and wet.
“Slow down. I don’t want you to get there before me.”
His hand slows, but his groans don’t subside, letting me know he’s still just as turned on. I slide my finger in and out, making sure to push as much lube into his hole as I can, and stretching the muscle with each thrust of my fingers.
“I’ve played with toys before,” Parker whines after a rougher stroke hits him so right that he shouts at the feeling. “You don’t have to be so careful.”
Well, blow me over with a feather. Imagining Parker at home nailing himself with toys is so hot, I need to be inside him. Now. I scoot down until I’m lined up, and replace my fingers with my cockhead. I hold my breath as I push slowly and steadily until the head fits all the way inside. He blows out a long breath that has him relaxing, and the next time his muscles contract, they pull me in deeper of their own accord. Fuck. He’s perfect for me.
“I’m good,” he whimpers. “You can move.”
I pull back slowly and thrust back in. My balls slap against his ass with each thrust, and they ripple at the contact. It’s even more gorgeous than I imagined, and I know I won’t last long.
I pull out and roll Parker to his back, bringing his knees up with me as I position myself and slide back home. With every new thrust, I try to angle my hips in a way that makes sure I hit his prostate. I can tell I’ve succeeded when drops of precum bubble at his slit with every punch.
I remove his hand from his cock and take over. I grip it tight, twisting at the end in time with each thrust, until finally Parker breathes out, “Coming.”
His cum pours from his dick into pools on his stomach and catching in his belly button. His whole body is slick with sweat, and his hair is matted to his forehead. He’s beautiful, and wrecked, and it’s all for me. I’ve done that to him.
I don’t mean to, but I can’t keep from holding my breath as my own orgasm overtakes me. I’m dizzy, but the feeling is so all-consuming. It feels like I can’t come from just the blood pulsing inside my cock, but I need every cell in my body working to eject my seed out of my body and into the condom buried deep inside Parker.
I start to sway, and Parker reaches up to catch me, and gently lowers me to the bed beside him. I’m supposed to be the one to take care of him afterward, but instead he cares for me, removing the condom, settling me down, helping me recover.
He kisses my lips, briefly, carefully, and trails fingertips lightly across my face around the cuts and bruises. I still don’t know where this thing with us is ending up, but it feels like every line he draws along my face is another piece of our story sliding into place, telling me this is real and that everything is going to work out.
26
Parker
“If Craig is your gay Obi-Wan, then I’m your gay Yoda.”
This is the first thing I hear upon entering my old apartment.
Craig stands with his hand on the door, shaking his head fondly as Mal and I shuffle past him into the hallway. A quick peek into the living room confirms my suspicions about what is going on﹘Ben leans over the back of the couch where Kieran sits, totally invading his personal space.
“This is the app you want,” Ben says, his arm thrown across Kieran’s shoulder, pointing at something on his phone. “You don’t want that one unless you want to turn into Crach and find someone to cuddle and have meaningful conversations with.”
“Yes!” Mal shouts from beside me, making me jump. “Crach became a thing. I so started that.”
“Crach is not a thing,” Zach deadpans from a red futon that’s a new addition to the living room. Soda cans are littered along with game controllers on the coffee table. It looks like they’re in for a night of hanging out.
Ben grins and straightens up to give Mal a high five. “It’s totally a thing,” he stage-whispers.
Zach stands, arms outstretched, and I embrace him in a hug.
“It’s good to see you, man.”
“You too,” Zach says, and leads me back over to the futon to talk. “How’s your mom?”
I sit down gingerly. My ass has been screaming at me about my morning with Mal the whole drive back to Fort Collins, but damn. So worth it.
Craig and Mal, who notices my wincing with a proud smirk, join Kieran on the couch. Ben remains standing, still hovering as quietly as Ben can, over Kieran’s phone.
“It’s been strange. I’m never sure if what she says is her true feelings or the disease. Like, never in a million years would I imagine my mom supporting my relationship with Mal or encouraging me to go after them.”
Craig’s soda can drops to the coffee table with a clank. “Wait. You two are together?” He looks back and forth from me to Mal.
Ben stands and throws his arms into the air. “Parker, how could you keep this from me? I thought we were like brothers.”
Craig rolls his eyes. “So Ben already knew. But you don’t look too surprised either, Zach.”
“Well, Parker’s moony eyes whenever he looks at Mal aren’t exactly subtle.”
“Are you saying I’m unobservant?” Craig says with heat pointed directly at Zach. “Because I might have to remind you later on just how observant I can be.”
“Yes, please,” Zach squeaks, then ducks his face into his turtleneck.
Crach are being such attention whores that I don’t notice Mal has gone quiet, until their soft voice says, “You told your mom about us?”
It’s taking every fiber of control not to shove Craig out of the way and put myself where I belong, by Mal’s side.
“Yes, and she told me that if you’re what I want, what makes me happy, then I should go after you.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. She even said that it was weird for me to be living at home. That I should live my life for me.”
“And are you?” The hopeful look on Mal’s face is almost too much to stare directly at. I fear it will burn through me like the sun, so much goodness directed in one place.
“I haven’t figured everything out yet. My dad’s so angry right now that I left even for a few days. I’m not sure how he’ll take it if I move back here. But I want to.”
I lock eyes with Mal. We drove back separately from Glenwood Springs, but met up at Mal’s and drove over here together. I should have brought this up then. It should have been a discussion we had privately, not in front of our nosy friends. The only one even pretending not to hang on our drama is Kieran, but even he hasn’t swiped anything left or right for a few minutes.
“God,” Ben sighs and flops into the recliner. “My apartment really is cursed. Be careful, Kieran, or you’ll be next. Thankfully, I’ve been inoculated.”
The oven timer beeps and Ben cheers. “Thank god. I’m starving. Kieran made lasagna, and there’s enough for everyone if you want to join us,” Ben says, looking at Mal and me. I’m assuming Craig and Zach were already invited. “It’s spring break, so party time!”
“Kieran heated up a box of frozen lasagna,” Kieran says as he sets his phone down and heads into the kitchen. “So don’t get too excited. But Ben’s right. There’s plenty. Although some of us have work tomorrow.”
We file into the kitchen and scoop helpings onto Ben’s ridiculous Star Wars plates and return to sit around the coffee table. This time I make sure that Mal and I are together on the futon. But with the ease
and comfort that this place and these people instill in me, I know in my heart that Mom’s right. This is my life. Not trying to be her caretaker, and doing a lousy job for her and for me. It feels selfish not to put her first, because she’s my mom and I love her. But I think moving back here and having a job that I love and a partner that I love would be honoring her wishes for me as my mother more than any of my fumbling caretaking attempts could. As my brain connects the thoughts and makes the decision, my body has already lost most of the tension I didn’t even realize I was carrying with me.
Mal cocks their head and hits me with a funny look. “Why are you smiling?”
My hands rise to touch my cheeks automatically. They’re right. I didn’t even realize I was smiling.
“I’m just happy to be back.”
“Oh,” Zach exclaims. “Parker, did Mal tell you about their plans?”
“Yes, and I’m so proud. I think it’s a brilliant idea.”
Mal told me before we left Glenwood Springs how they had decided to start their own freelance graphic design business. Apparently Zach helped them with the planning, and they’ll be working together on a lot of projects. They’ll be able to work from home and won’t have to worry about asshole bosses demanding that they change themself ever again. Their friend and former co-worker Nicole is apparently also on board, and plans to use Mal for side jobs and specialty work whenever she can. They showed me their schedule, and they are already booked for the next month.
Mal smiles, their normally confident self hidden with an unusual burst of humility. “I’m even thinking of looking for a new place in Fort Collins. Someplace with an extra room that I can use for work. It would be nice to be more central, especially if I need to meet with clients and with Zach all the time.”
I reach over and squeeze their hand that’s holding onto their plate. “I could help with that. Make sure there’s enough room for all my things too, maybe?”
Again, not exactly how I wanted to have this conversation with Mal, but I can’t help it. Now that I’ve made the decision, I can’t wait to get back on track with my life. I’m sure the others will think we’re rushing it, and there will be problems with Shelby and the divorce. But if I’ve learned one thing from the past few weeks with my mom, it’s that life’s too short. And I want Mal in my life.
Mal’s eyes slowly spread as my words sink in. They move their plate to the table without taking their eyes from mine. “Do you mean it?”
I smile and shrug. What if Mal thinks it’s too soon? What if everyone here is about to witness my rejection? I really should have reined myself in.
Mal squeals and throws themself into my lap, wrapping their arms around my neck. I have to hold my plate up to keep Mal from landing in it. I relax immediately into their touch. I guess I didn’t have to worry.
“I would love to live with you,” they say, and press a chaste kiss to my lips. We do have an audience, after all, which Ben reminds us with his gagging noises.
“Yeah, yeah,” Mal says without looking. “We all know you’re secretly gagging for it, Ben.”
The room erupts with laughter – everyone except me. I hold the person who has so quickly become my everything tight in my lap. I never plan on letting this one go.
27
Mal
“It’s worse than I feared.”
I open my apartment door to an older woman literally clutching her pearls, accompanied by a man clinging to a Bible like it will somehow protect him from me. A thousand scenarios spin in my brain. Travelling Bible salespeople? Jackson Daugherty getting his final revenge? Their Bible has developed a mind of its own and is trying to implant itself, like a cyborg but with books, and only a heathen such as myself can save them?
“Aunt Bonnie?” Parker peeks his head out of the bedroom. “What are you doing here? How did you even find me?”
Aunt Bonnie? I look back to the woman that is Zach’s mother. I’ve heard many stories, but never did I imagine she’d be pulling one of her stunts on my doorstep.
Parker has been staying with me since we came back from Glenwood Springs, and my tiny five-hundred square foot apartment has never felt cozier. In a good way. I love waking to the weight of his body near mine every morning, and falling asleep every evening with his steady heartbeat under mine. He’s been getting things in order with work – they were thrilled to take him back and willing to let him work virtually part-time so that he can go to Oklahoma more often and visit his mother. And he and I have been house shopping together, just rentals for now because of the divorce. The coziness is nice, but it’s probably not practical for the long term.
“Parker, this is Dr. Henrick, our pastor. I’ve brought him to talk with you. It isn’t too late to undo the damage you’ve inflicted upon yourself.”
“Oh, hell no,” I say and start to slam the door on the evil witch, but a hand reaches from behind and stops me.
“Just a second,” Parker says to them and pulls me into the kitchen.
“Let me talk to her, or else she might never leave us alone. Why don’t you go warn Zach that his mom is in town?”
Parker leans down to place a soft kiss on my face, and I do my best to ignore the outraged gasp coming from the living room. Oh goody. They’ve let themselves in.
I grab my jacket and phone from the bedroom and head outside to call Zach.
“Hey, Mal,” Zach answers on the first ring. I’m still a little surprised how far we’ve come in such a short time. Any jealousy he had over me is long gone, and in its place is that mothering instinct Zach seems to harbor for all of his friends.
“Hi, Zach. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but your mom is here.”
“What?”
“Yeah, Parker just got ambushed. And she brought some preacher,” I say while pacing the sidewalk. My hoodie isn’t that warm, and I only threw on the nearest sweatpants and tank top. We might have been a little indisposed when they first knocked.
“Fucking hell. I’ll be right there,” Zach says, then adds, “Wait, I’ve never been to your place. How the hell did she find it?”
“No idea, but I’ll text you the address,” I say, bouncing on my toes while I type out the information and send it to Zach. It’s fucking freezing out here, which is why I notice the man sitting in the parked car. He’s got to be freezing balls. His curls are shorter and tighter to his scalp, but they tell me right away who this man is.
He jumps when I knock on his window.
“You Zach’s dad?” I ask after he rolls down the window. He looks taken aback, but nods anyway, probably a reflex. “You didn’t want to join the witch hunt inside?” I lean my elbows onto the door, trying to act casual when what I really want to do is throttle the man. “If you get too cold out here, there’s always the chance they’ll burn Parker at the stake. I bet that would warm you up.”
Zach’s dad sighs and leans his head back against the seat. “I’m not here for Parker. I just came hoping I’d get to see Zach.”
“You’re going to get your wish, honey.” I pat his shoulder with mock sincerity. “But I don’t think it’s going to be the happy family reunion you’re imagining in that curly head of yours.”
His frown deepens, and he starts to roll the window back up. I tell him, in all seriousness, he’s welcome to come back with me, but I can’t convince him to come inside.
When I open the door to my apartment, I expect World War III to have commenced, so the fact that all three are sitting together calmly sipping on tea is a shock. I don’t even move past the doorway or close the door behind me, even though later I know I’ll regret letting all that cold air in. Right now, I’m too struck to move.
“You’re an engineer. You know better than anyone that there is such a thing as absolute truth,” Dr. Henrick says, leaning forward with excitement, probably at actually being engaged and not just shut down.
“Umm, no,” Parker says, his eyes narrowing as he tries to predict where the good pastor is directing this conversation.
“But you’re sitting in that chair. You wouldn’t sit in that chair if you didn’t know with absolute truth that chairs hold people.” Dr. Henrick’s arms are flying now, and I have to be honest, I don’t believe with absolute truth that my flimsy dining chair is going to hold him. “So your brain might deny it, but in here,” he points to his chest, “you know that absolute truth exists.”
Parker leans back and folds his arms. “That’s a terrible example. I see chairs collapse and people fall on their ass all the time. I might put faith in the sturdiness or engineering of a chair to hold my weight, but I don’t believe that chairs holding people is an absolute truth.”
“Ah, but you’re still grasping the original point, which is that what you feel and what is real are two different things. Jeremiah 17:9 tells us that the heart is deceitful above all things.”
Parker holds his hand up. His nostrils flare and his upper lip twitches like he’s trying to keep his mouth flat. “Wait a minute. Are you trying to tell me that I shouldn’t base a relationship on what I feel in my heart?”
I know Parker well enough to know what that look means, but Dr. Henrick doesn’t have a clue what he’s walking into. He thinks Parker has finally got it. “Yes! Your heart can trick you into feeling things that aren’t true.”
“So if I can’t base a relationship on what I’m feeling, on what my heart tells me, what am I supposed to base it on?”
“Why, God’s life manual for us, of course, the Bible. When you accept Jesus, the old self is cast away, and everything is become new.”
“Technically, I became a Christian at the age of six. So why didn’t it work then?”
“Oh it did, son, it did. But Satan is always finding ways to wheedle into our lives. And he has used this boy as a way to test you and your faith.”
“Hi, ‘that boy’ here,” I wave from the front door as I finally let it slam behind me. “Although, as I’m sure you’ve heard, I prefer the term ‘person.’ Or ‘human’ has a nice ring to it. Anything other than ‘evil fucking bitch.’ I think we all know who that title’s reserved for,” I say with a wink at Zach’s mom.