by Nora Phoenix
Indy smacked his arm. “Cut it out, Noah. He’s been out of it for a week, so he has no idea what happened. He’s merely happy to see me.”
At that rather unfortunate expression, Miles’ cock perked up. With thin pajama bottoms and only a sheet covering him, there was no way he’d be hiding his erection.
Two pairs of eyes traveled south, where the sheets slowly moved upward. Miles froze inwardly, thanking his lucky stars once again that he never blushed. Didn’t mean he wasn’t embarrassed as hell.
God, he wished for one day where his body wouldn’t let him down. One single day where he could be normal. Maybe he should close his eyes, pretend to fall asleep again. They’d leave then, right?
Indy turned toward Noah, jammed a finger in his face. “Not. A. Word.”
Noah kissed his finger with the cutest gesture ever, then turned his eyes on Miles. “I’m sorry for you. Indy told me. Can’t even imagine how inconvenient and frustrating that must be.”
Miles let out his breath. He rarely talked about his issue, and when he did, he not often encountered understanding. Most people thought it was either hot—I wish I would be horny all day! No, you don’t. Really, it’s not nearly as awesome as it sounds—or didn’t believe him.
“Thank you. It is. And no, I was not flirting with Indy. Last time I saw him we were in some storm shelter in Kansas, and everything was going to hell in a hand basket, so I was indeed happy to see him alive and well. And with you.”
He added the last words for good measure, wanting Noah to know he had no designs on Indy. He honestly didn’t. Sure, the kid was cute, but he didn’t chase guys who were already in a relationship.
Wait, why was Indy here with Noah and not in FBI custody?
“Why are you here? What happened?”
“Someone took out the top three of the Fitzpatricks, including Duncan. There’s no more contract on my head, and the threat is gone. I’m still testifying against the remaining lieutenants, but they’re all in jail. Those that managed to avoid being arrested don’t have the funds anymore to take me out. The FBI confirmed that the contract that was out on me has been canceled. So, I’m home. With Noah.”
Miles’ head swirled with the news. “That’s fantastic. God, I’m happy for you, Indy. You deserve it.”
A look passed between Indy and Noah that made Miles’ heart ache. Noah kissed Indy softly. “He does,” he said.
“Stupid question, but how am I doing?” Miles asked. “I mean, they’ve talked to me, but it’s hard to remember when your brain is mush. How long will I have to stay?” He vaguely remembered his boss, Wells, coming in and talking to him at some point, but the details were rather fuzzy.
“You’re doing well,” Noah assured him. “Aside from bruises all over your body, you had a severe concussion, three broken ribs, a broken nose, a hairline fracture in your clavicle, and most importantly, you had internal bleeding from your spleen, which they had to remove. The surgery went well, and you’re expected to make a full recovery, in time.”
Miles tried to process it, but it was a lot to take in. These assholes had worked him over good, apparently. He couldn’t remember anything after feeling his body give up on him in that storm shelter in Kansas.
“What happened?” he asked Indy, his head hurting with the effort of thinking.
Indy sent him a soft smile. “I used your phone to call an ambulance for you and took off as soon as they arrived. They operated on you immediately.”
“You saved my life.”
Indy shrugged, looking embarrassed.
“You did, Indy. Thank you.” He didn’t add the perfunctory “I owe you one”, because it wouldn’t work that way with Indy. Not with himself either. You didn’t owe people for saving your life. You simply had to be grateful and be worthy of their sacrifice. Still, Indy had done an extraordinary thing, dragging him out of that barn. The kid could’ve easily left him there and hightailed it outta there.
Wait, was he still in Kansas? If so, how the hell did Indy and Noah show up here? It was a long way from New York.
“What hospital am I in?”
“You’re in Albany General, the hospital I used to work in,” Noah said. “We talked to your boss and had you transferred from Kansas as soon as you were stable.”
“Why?”
Indy reached out to him, put his small, strong hand on Miles’ arm. “I hope you’re not mad with us, but we overheard your boss saying you had no next of kin and no valid emergency contact. They didn’t want you to stay in Kansas without a support system, but in DC you wouldn’t have had anyone either. I convinced them we’d become friends.”
Miles closed his eyes. Of course. He’d never changed the information in his FBI file, so Casey had still been in there. “My boyfriend broke up with me a few months ago, so yeah. Should have changed that, I guess.”
“No parents or family?” Noah asked.
“My parents and my sister were killed in a boating accident a few years back when a drunk guy in a speedboat rammed their sailing boat.”
“Oh, Miles,” Indy breathed, the compassion in his voice clear.
Miles opened his eyes again. “Thank you. For bringing me here and visiting me. Friendships are not easy in this line of work.”
Indy squeezed his arm one last time, and of course Miles’ traitorous cock reacted immediately.
“Do you want me to stop touching you?” Indy asked, his eyes trailing to the tented sheet.
“No. Please don’t. I mean…” He swallowed, lost for words. How did he explain how lonely he was, how starving for touch? He was so scared to connect with others, knowing he’d get hard. It was pathetic, but the simple sensation of Indy’s hand on his arm made him desperate for more. Not sex, but simple human touch. Connection. Friendship. God, he was a pathetic fucker.
“Look, Miles, there’s something you need to know about us,” Noah said. His voice was warm and kind, and his eyes held nothing of the contempt and anger Miles had grown accustomed to and had come to expect. “As far as sex goes, we’re not exactly normal.” Miles remembered Indy’s file, the suggestion he was living with three other guys. “Me and Indy, we share a house with Josh and Connor, and we’re very open with each other about our sexual activities.”
Indy grinned. “That’s the polite way of saying we’re a bunch of kinky fuckers.”
Noah shot Indy a grin. “All this to say that we’re not easily offended, or weirded out. What you have, how your body responds, it’s okay with us. We won’t take it the wrong way.”
Stupid tears were clouding his eyes. It was a sad testament to how rarely he encountered compassion and understanding for his struggles. “Thank you.”
“You’re being released from the hospital in a week or so, they told us. Is there anywhere you want to go?” Indy asked.
His heart sank. He really was pretty close to being pathetic, wasn’t he? “No. I’ll have to return to my apartment in DC, hire a nurse, I guess.”
“You can come home with us, if you want.”
Indy said it so matter-of-factly, it took Miles a few seconds to process it. “What? Why?”
Another deep look of love between Indy and Noah. “Indy thinks you’re lonely, and he can’t stand to see people in pain. He wants to take you home, make sure you’re okay.”
Miles swallowed. In the short time they’d spent together, it seemed the kid had him pegged. He wasn’t sure if he should be grateful or feel mortified he’d come across as a charity case.
A gulf of pain rolled over his body. He slowly reached for the morphine drip button and pushed it. He had a few minutes before the stuff would knock him out, and there was something else he needed to ask.
“Do you guys know a man named Brad? Dark curls, brown eyes?” He wanted to add “sucks cock like it’s nobody’s business” but thought better of it. Being kinky fuckers was one thing, but fuck knew how they would respond to a crude remark like that.
Indy smiled, a slow, sexy smile that made his face light up. �
�You like him?”
Miles’ eyes narrowed. “Did you send him?”
“Yeah. When you were transferred here, I realized you had a problem, considering your…condition. So, I arranged a solution for you. Brad. How’s he been working out?”
Were they really talking about this? It sure seemed so. Indy’s eyes were dancing, his face pulled up in a mischievous grin. He was obviously very pleased with himself.
“His visits have been…highly satisfactory,” Miles said, trying to maintain at least a hint of modesty, then giving up on that notion. In for a penny, in for the whole thing. “Oh, what the hell. He sucks cock like you wouldn’t believe. I’m not kidding.”
Indy elbowed Noah. “Told you.”
“Indy,” Miles said. “I really appreciate you doing this for me. It’s incredibly considerate of you. But who is he, and why is he okay with doing this? I’m a complete stranger to him.”
“I can’t tell you why he does it, that’s up to Brad to share. Or not. But rest assured, he’s doing it voluntarily. We’re not forcing him. Or paying him.”
A sense of relief flooded Miles. He hadn’t dared to ask, but the thought had occurred to him that Brad might be a prostitute. That wouldn’t make him less grateful, but it would have been different. As a federal agent, he couldn’t exactly engage in illegal activities, no matter how good they felt.
And holy fuck, Brad did feel good. His hot, slick mouth on Miles’ cock. That tongue of his that lapped him up like he was a delicious treat. He wanted to fuck his throat, stuff his mouth completely full and come down his throat again. And then do it all over again.
“He’s drifting off,” Noah said. “The morphine is kicking in.”
Miles blinked, fought to stay awake. Exhaustion was battling with arousal, since he was still hard from Indy’s touch and their conversation. Fuck, he hoped Brad would stop by. Soon.
“You wanna come home with us?” Indy asked.
“God, yes,” Miles heard himself say. “I’d love to.”
His eyes drifted shut again.
“We’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
He was already half asleep, when voices at the door woke him up again. Who were Noah and Indy talking to? The door closed, then was locked.
He fought to open his eyes. Brad. Thank fuck.
“I’m so damn hard,” Miles said.
That sexy, low chuckle. “That’s what I’m here for.”
“Wanna fuck you.”
The sheet was whipped off his body, his pajama bottoms shoved down. “You’d have to be awake for that, champ. How about you fuck my mouth instead?”
“Okay,” he mumbled.
Slick heat engulfed his cock, and he let out a deep moan. His hands sought, found, caressed those soft curls. The slurping sounds aroused him even more than he already was.
“Mmmm. You’re so good at this.”
Brad pulled his mouth off Miles’ cock with a delicious plop. “Would you like me to play with your balls? Your hole?”
“Fuck, yes. Everything. Everywhere.”
His right testicle was sucked into Brad’s mouth, setting his entire body on fire. Miles’ hips bucked.
“Oh, damn.”
The left testicle was next. Then Brad wet his finger and put pressure on his hole. Miles moaned. It had been so long since someone had done that. He bore down, and Brad’s finger slipped in. Electricity danced down his spine.
“Coming,” he warned.
Brad’s mouth took him in, all the way in. He increased the grip on his head, lifted his hips of the mattress. Brad’s finger followed the movement, sunk in deep, creating that perfect friction in Miles’ ass. His cock thrust deep into the guy’s mouth, then again, and again, and he came so hard. So good. Hot damn.
“Sorry. Did I hurt you?”
“Not at all. I love to be skull fucked.”
Skull fucked. Miles had never heard that expression before. It was dirty, and perfect. He sighed, relaxing as all tension left his body. It wouldn’t last, but he’d enjoy it for now.
“Thank you,” he said. He couldn’t open his eyes anymore. Too tired. “You’re perfect.”
3
He was crazy. This was crazy. Bradford Kent argued with himself the entire elevator ride up to the ninth floor of Albany General, as he had done every single time he’d gone up to Miles’ room. Yet the end result had always been the same: him slipping into Miles’ room, locking it behind him, and bringing the gorgeous FBI agent to a shattering climax. Man, the guy could come. And come. And come again.
Even stuck in a hospital bed with bandages everywhere and almost as pale as the sheets covering him, the man was rip-roaring hot. Tall, blond, fit, and with a cock that tasted like heaven.
Okay, that was even more crazy, Brad admitted. Most men, even gay men, wouldn’t say that. He did, however. He’d thoroughly enjoyed sucking Miles off. He could only hope it would last a bit longer, because surely as soon as the guy was recovered enough to go home, it would end. He had to have a long list of willing bed partners to gratify him.
Brad hesitated shortly before he opened the door. Would Miles be awake again this time? He was getting more and more lucid, whereas before, he’d been half out of it. If Brad hadn’t felt his erection every time, he would have worried about sucking him off without the guy being able to give consent. But what Indy said had been true. Miles was hard all the time, and if he wasn’t, it took one touch to get him fully erect.
He’d been too cute last time, telling Brad he wanted to fuck him. The man was nowhere near ready for that, yet, but if he was, Brad would bend over in a heartbeat. If blowing him already felt so good, Brad could only imagine how deeply satisfying it would be to be fucked raw by the guy. Yeah, as he said, he was out of his fucking mind, and a pervert to boot. What else was new?
Miles was watching TV when he stepped into the room, a first. Brad jammed his hands into his pockets, suddenly nervous and shy. “Hi,” he said.
Miles sent him a blinding smile, turned off the TV instantly. “Hi. I was hoping you’d come by.”
“Yeah. Of course. I mean, I’ve been here twice a day, most days.”
“I didn’t realize. I’ve been pretty out of it.” He gestured toward the morphine pump. “That stuff is powerful.”
“How are you feeling?” Was that a stupid question to ask? Brad sucked at small talk, never knew what to say, or when it got awkward.
“Wanna sit down?” Miles asked, pointing toward the chair beside his bed.
“Don’t you want me to…”
Miles swallowed. “Yeah. If you want. But maybe talk first?”
“Oh.” That was unexpected. And major uncomfortable. What the hell would he want to talk about? It wasn’t like they had much in common. Still, Brad lowered himself on the chair, folded his hands in his lap.
Miles smiled. “Your name is Brad, right?”
He nodded.
“I’m Miles.”
“Yeah, I know. I mean, nice to meet you. Officially?” Way to go, bubbling idiot, he cursed himself, but Miles didn’t seem to mind.
“I guess we hadn’t been officially introduced, even though you seem to know me quite well in other ways.”
“Indy said it was okay,” Brad said quickly. Was Miles upset with him? Had he done something to displease him?
“It is. It was. Hell, yes. Thank you.”
He relaxed again. “You’re welcome.”
“Indy explained to you what I have?”
He nodded. “Yeah. He said it would hurt like hell if nobody took care of you.”
Miles let out a soft sigh. “It gets quite painful. Why do you do this? I mean, you don’t even know me.”
Brad’s face tightened. There was no way he was sharing this with Miles. He’d be repulsed for sure. Even Charlie didn’t know the whole story, and Brad trusted him with his life.
“It’s okay,” Miles said. Did he sense his discomfort? “You don’t need to tell me. I was curious, but above all, I’m grateful.”
“You love sucking cock.”
He raised his chin. This much he would admit. “Yes.”
“You’re really, really good at it.” Miles’ voice was so sincere, Brad didn’t doubt the truth of his statement even for a second.
Brad’s face lit up. “Thank you. Please tell me if there’s anything else you like. I can bring a dildo to fuck you while I suck you off, or give you a hand job if you’d prefer. I don’t know if you like it a little rougher, add a touch of pain, or what.”
He clamped his mouth shut. Total verbal diarrhea and so fucking eager. Would he ever learn?
“I’m going home in a couple of days, if all goes well,” Miles said, studying him with an indecipherable look.
Damn. That was it, then. He had a few more days with this perfect man, and then he’d be back to scrounging favors off total strangers in gay clubs. He’d known it was temporary anyway. Miles wouldn’t want him once he had options, and Brad needed something the agent would never be able to give him. He doubted anybody could or would, especially once they realized how truly fucked-up he was, but that didn’t keep his stubborn heart from hoping.
“Okay.”
“I’m going home with Indy and Noah.”
He was? How crazy was that? He and Charlie were still staying with them, too. Charlie’s ex was still too much of a threat to even consider moving back into Brad’s place, since that would be the first place Zach would come looking for Charlie. Brad had been surprised Zack hadn’t made a move yet, but Charlie said he’d been out of state for three weeks on some kind of training that had been scheduled months in advance.
Brad had asked Indy repeatedly if he was okay with them staying there, especially since he’d just been reunited with Noah, but Indy had assured him it was fine. Josh was still at the mental facility, so maybe when he came home it would be time to leave? It would certainly make things interesting with Miles moving in as well.
Brad’s eyes lifted from the floor to meet Miles’. He saw uncertainty there, an implicit question. Was Miles asking him what Brad thought he was?
“I could…continue helping you there, if you want me to,” he offered, almost holding his breath.