On the Sand [A Jarheads Novel]

by Sean Michael

  Rock knew, without even looking, that his Rabbit's cock was still hard, that Rig was right there, needing so bad. He pressed his wet fingers into Rig's body, spreading that perfect ass open.

  "I need. I need, y'all. Fuck. Please.” Oh, fuck yeah. He hadn't seen Rig wild like this in months.

  He made short work of spreading Rig, pulling his fingers away and settling between Rig's legs.

  "Blue. Fuck me. Come on.” Dick was tugging, sucking that pierced tit. Rig's eyes were just wide.

  He pushed in, just like that, sliding into the best fucking heat.

  "Yes!” Rig grunted, hands tangling in Dick's hair.

  He nodded, holding those grey eyes. “Yes.” With a grunt, he started thrusting.

  "Y'all's. Fuck, I can feel it. It's tingling. Harder, Rock."

  "Whatever you want.” As he thrust harder, Dick twisted that nipple ring, tugged on it. Fuck, look at that. Look at his fine motherfucking man. Rig bucked, ass clenching around his cock, milking him.

  "Rig! Yes!” He pounded away, fucking flying.

  "Jim.” More spunk sprayed between them, Rig's eyes rolling back into his head.

  He could smell the kid go off, too, Dick coming without either of them touching him. So fucking sexy.

  He roared as he came.

  Rig was moaning for him still, flying as he came down. He stayed buried, leaning forward enough to give Rig's nipple a kiss, and then to take Rig's mouth. Rig moaned, arm wrapping around his neck, holding him tight. Dick's lips slid against theirs, and they let the kid in, the kiss becoming a three-way. Rig groaned, pushed in and hummed, rocking nice and slow.

  Oh, yeah, this wasn't over yet. Still hard, he moved with Rig, the kid shifting, cock pushing between their bellies. Rig's ass rippled around his cock, milking and massaging it. They could stay right here and do this all night.

  Hell, for fucking ever.

  His finger reached for Rig's nipple ring, touching the metal.

  Yeah.

  Chapter Forty Nine

  Man, the kitchen needed reorganizing. Rig pulled down the cans from the pantry, humming “Silent Night” with Garth. The front door opened and closed—his marines had gotten in the habit of taking turns coming home to have lunch with him.

  "Hey, Rig.” Dick smiled at him and took the cans out of his hands, putting them on the counter. “Should you be doing that?"

  "Hey, Pretty.” He leaned in for a kiss. “The kitchen needs reorganizing. Your nose is cold."

  Dick grinned. “I could help if you wanted. It's a slow day at the gym."

  "Yeah? That sounds good to me.” He went to grab another set of cans, idly planning Christmas dinner in his head. Ham, he thought. They'd have steaks to celebrate Dick's finals.

  Finals.

  When were finals?

  Dick took the cans down from the top shelf. “So why exactly are we taking all the cans out of the pantry? Is there something you can't find?"

  "Huh? No. No, they're out of order. I haven't looked into them.” He was bored. Needed something to do. “When do you have finals?"

  "Finals? Oh, I don't. Out of order—I guess me and Rock didn't do a great job keeping things the way you like ‘em, huh?” Dick grabbed more cans and took them to the table.

  "You don't what?"

  "Huh? Oh, the cans. Not being in order. I didn't even realize there was a right order. I mean they're just cans, right? You stack ‘em the best way they fit.” Dick demonstrated his stacking, playing with the cans.

  He arched an eyebrow. “Dick, what's up?"

  Like cute, tall and guilty could lie to him.

  He sure was trying though, eyes wide as they glanced his way. “What do you mean?"

  "Don't. What's wrong? Is school kicking your ass?” He just pushed right up to Dick, hugged tight.

  Dick's arms wrapped around him. “No. No not at all. I got my classes deferred. So I don't have exams this term."

  "Oh.” Oh. Oh, Goddamn. He. Shit. “I'm sorry, man."

  Fuck.

  He fucking sucked.

  Dick's arms tightened around him. “You don't have to apologize, Rig. It was just easier to defer them than to deal with everything that was coming down. The course load was too heavy anyway; I probably would have failed at least Stats if nothing else. So it worked out for the best."

  "I'm sorry. Shit. I didn't ... you worked so hard..."

  "It's okay. I didn't fail, you know? It was early enough to defer them. I'm signed up for a class next term. I'll do better then. Make you and Rock proud.” Dick's fingers stroked along his back. Christ.

  "I wish I'd've waited. Just a couple more months and you'd've been on break..."

  "Rig ... you can't choose when you're sick. Shit, you should have done it six months sooner."

  "I could've waited for the test.” He would've waited to tell them, had it been cancer.

  Dick pulled away. “Stop it. It's bad enough you were throwing up blood and shit for nine months before you went in for the test. This isn't your fault, okay? And nothing's screwed up, so it's fine."

  "It's not fine. I'm tired of being sick and ready to go back to how I was. I'm tired of fucking things up."

  "I want you to be better, too, Rig. And I want things to go back to normal, too. But not at your expense! Shit. It's bad enough you were that sick for that long and didn't tell me. And that I didn't realize."

  "I did tell you.” He shook his head. “You and I talked about it and I went to the doctor, just like I promised."

  "But you let me think that everything was fine!"

  Of course he did. He loved them. He loved them both. “I didn't lie."

  Dick rolled his eyes. “No, I suppose technically you didn't."

  "Don't you roll your eyes at me. I was doing my best.” He'd been fucking scared and did either of them say a word? No.

  "Damn it, Rig. You were doing your best alone, and that's not right."

  "What was I supposed to do? What were you going to do?"

  "I don't know! Worry. Hold you. Tell you everything was going to be all right.” Dick grabbed him and pulled him in for a tight hug. “It kills me you were scared and all alone for most of this."

  "I...” He didn't want to lie, say he hadn't been scared, so he just leaned.

  Hard.

  Dick held onto him, rocking slightly from side to side. “You gotta promise me you won't do that again."

  "Do what? Get sick?"

  "No. Well yes, except I know you can't promise that. But the going it alone thing. Promise me you won't do that again.” Dick pulled back to look into his eyes. “Please."

  "I told you I wasn't feeling good, Dick. I went to the doctor.” He just hadn't whined.

  "And you never said you were still sick! Come on, Rig, you know what I mean."

  "I do. I couldn't come home and look at y'all and just ... I didn't know, Dick."

  "Well you figure out a way how. Because God knows I don't want it to happen again, or something else to happen, but if it does, you tell me. I don't care how hard it is, I don't care, okay? I just. You need to tell.” Dick's voice broke, pretty eyes blinking, and then Dick jerked him back in close.

  "Hey. Hey, I got you. I got you, man. You know I wouldn't leave y'all.” Not ever.

  "Better not,” whispered Dick, just holding on.

  "I won't. I can't.” He kissed Dick's shoulder, dancing them in lazy circles to the song on the radio. Lord have mercy. Dick fucking thought too much for his own good.

  "But you'll tell, right? If?"

  "I'll do my best. You know I will.” He wouldn't lie; he hadn't been trying to hide it from the guys. He couldn't tell them.

  "Okay. Okay.” Dick nodded into his neck, and they kept moving, kept dancing as Dick held him tight.

  He just hummed, letting himself enjoy this—just this, right this second, with Dick so close.

  "We haven't been dancing in forever,” whispered Dick.

  "I know. It's a shame. I'm just starting to feel up to it again."
/>
  "We could go somewhere before Christmas. Who knows, maybe Rock'll even come along."

  "Works for me. I'm sorry about school, Pretty. You were doing so good.” He grinned, nuzzled a little. “I promise, no dramatic surgeries next semester."

  "I'm going to hold you to that.” Dick pulled back enough to smile at him, and then bring their lips together. The kiss was soft, a low moan pressing into his mouth.

  He took that kiss, then offered another and another, fucking Dick's lips nice and easy. Dick grew hard against his lower belly, hands sliding over his back, one going down to grab his belly, the other wandering. His own body was slower to respond, but he was willing to take some time, just feel.

  Their dancing slid into just moving against each other, rubbing together like they had all day.

  "You need to call Rock or are you good?” He didn't really need to finish the kitchen right now.

  "I'm good. Was gonna go Christmas shopping after lunch."

  "Mmm. That sounds fun. Can I come too?” They could play.

  "Only if we get to finish this first.” Grinning, Dick rubbed against him, made sure he knew exactly what ‘this’ was.

  "I might could manage a bit of that...” He chuckled and then, suddenly, they were both laughing together. Fuck, that felt good. Honest. Real.

  Dick squeezed him tight, half supporting him, half leaning against him as they caught their breath again. “Glad it was my day to come home for lunch."

  "Yeah? I'm pretty fucking tickled myself.” He nodded, gave half of his world a grin.

  Dick grinned right back. “Wanna do it on the couch? We haven't done it on the couch in ages."

  "Mmm. Poor couch.” He started walking Dick back into the front room, hands exploring all that hard, fine body.

  "Yeah, all those asses and none of them naked.” Dick laughed, and then moaned a little at his touch.

  "How depressing...” He got Dick's shirt pulled up and off, lips on one collarbone.

  "For the couch.” Dick's voice faded away, sweet moans filling the air.

  His own t-shirt was tugged up and off, Dick's fingers spreading across his chest. He shook his head as Dick avoided his scar. He grabbed Dick's wrist, slid it up to the ridge. “It's part of me, too. Touch me."

  "I don't want to hurt you.” Still, Dick's fingers slid over it, traced it.

  "If it hurts, I'll tell you. It means I'm alive."

  "Yeah, I guess it does.” Dick's fingers slid back over it as his pretty pressed their mouths together.

  He brought them down to the sofa, encouraging Dick to land on him, press him down. Dick hesitated for a moment, and then leaned into him, let him have his Pretty's weight. His scar was touched again, and then Dick's fingers found his unadorned nipple, teasing it. “Mmm. Dick. Come on. Love on me.” Touch me like you mean it.

  Nodding, Dick moved in to lick at the sweet spot on his neck, clever hands tugging open his jeans. He got busy working those sensitive nerves at the base of Dick's spine, scratching and rubbing and dragging his fingers over them. Dick jerked and cried out, fingers working faster, tugging his jeans down with little finesse or care.

  "Fuck, yeah. Come on.” That was it. He wanted needy and wild.

  Rolling away for just long enough to get his own jeans off, Dick rolled back, pressing their bodies together, skin on skin. Those sweet porno noises started up, Dick moving against him, fingers grabbing hold of his nipple and twisting. That made his balls draw up, his cock hard, full, starting to leak.

  The lube was still under the couch cushion and Dick searched for it, holding it up triumphantly when he found it. “Want you."

  "I'm yours.” His and Rock's—through and through.

  "Yeah, mine.” Dick leaned in and started sucking up a mark on his neck, fingers slick and sliding along his crease.

  "Yeah.” Rig panted, one leg falling to the floor so he could spread. “More."

  One of Dick's fingers pushed into him, his pretty groaning. “Oh, fuck. Tight. Rig."

  "Uh-huh. More.” No thinking. Just fucking. Lots of fucking.

  Another finger pushed in, Dick spreading him, hitting his gland.

  "Oh.” He went still, gasping as he shifted, trying to get that again.

  "Here?” Dick asked, fingers searching, pushing, sliding over that spot again.

  "There. There. Again. Fuck. Dick. Please.” Hell, yeah.

  "Uh-huh.” Dick went back to sucking that mark up on his neck, fingers pushing into his gland time and time again, sending him flying.

  "Pretty!” He was fixin’ to shake apart, just shatter. “Oh, sweet fuck. Please."

  The fingers inside him disappeared, Dick's panting loud in his ear as it seemed to take forever before the long cock pushed against him, slowly spread him open.

  "Dick. Oh, sweet fuck.” His hips rolled and he took every fucking inch.

  Moaning, Dick rolled his ass just a little, pushing in that last bit. A soft whimper sounded, and then Dick started to move, eyes meeting his as Dick pushed back in.

  "That's it.” He grinned, so fucking happy it wasn't funny.

  Dick grinned right back, skin starting to shine with sweat, thrusts coming harder and harder, his pretty so deep inside him.

  "Need this.” He needed both of them. All of them.

  "Anything.” One of Dick's hands wrapped around his prick, tugging and pulling.

  "Uh-uh. Everything.” Oh, shit, that felt good.

  Bending, Dick bit at his earlobe. “Gimme."

  "Yes.” Rig nodded, arched and shot, pleasure galloping along his spine.

  "Oh, fuck!” Dick cried out, jerking inside him, coming deep.

  "Mmm...” Rig nodded, satisfied to the core.

  Hell yes.

  Forehead resting against his shoulder, Dick stayed buried deep for long moments, making happy little noises as his breath slowed. “Shit, that was sweet."

  "Mmhmm. Should do it more often."

  "Okay.” Dick pulled out slowly with a soft “oh” and settled next to him.

  "Mmm. You good, Pretty?” He kissed Dick's jaw.

  "Oh yeah. Yeah, I'm good.” Dick chuckled and snuggled closer. “I really good."

  He grinned, nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I hear you."

  "You wanna nap before we go shopping?” Dick's head was already on his shoulder.

  "Uh-huh.” He was becoming an incredible fan of naps.

  "Cool. Then we can go have lunch somewhere nice and decide what to get for Rock."

  "Sounds perfect.” He settled with a happy sigh. He could worry about the kitchen later.

  Much, much later.

  Chapter Fifty

  They had hotdogs at a stand near the beach and then went to the mall to go shopping, wandering through the stores and picking up socks and underwear and other stocking stuffers for Rock and Deuce and Gary.

  It was fun, and it felt like normal. Dick hadn't realized how much he'd been wanting for things to be normal until now, enjoying the shopping far more than anyone should. “So what are we going to get for Rock this year?"

  "I don't know, man. You spend more time with him than I do these days. What does he want?"

  Dick grinned. “You. Healthy and whole.” It was what they both wanted.

  "Well, that y'all got.” Rig winked. It was true. Rig was looking better and better. He still had thirty five pounds to gain—another twenty before he could go back to work—but he looked better.

  "Then we're good. Although I saw this sand dune buggy thing that he might like..."

  "Oh, yeah? Oh, Dick, that would rock! We could go four-wheelin'!"

  He grinned and nodded, loving that excitement. “Yeah. I think it's a bit pricey, but if we went into it together, and didn't get each other anything big..."

  "I could probably finance it. I'm a little cash-poor from not working."

  "Yeah? I don't want you to have to go into debt for a Christmas gift, you know?"

  "Rock's worth it.” Rig squeezed his fingers, gave him a wan grin. “Hell,
my part of the surgery and hospital stay is damn near eighty thousand dollars."

  He stopped still and just shared. “Shit, Rig. That's a lot of dough."

  "Yeah. You think we ought to send Julie's kids gift cards?"

  "Gift cards? Um, sure. What happened to your insurance?"

  "That was after coverage. I'm fighting it some. You don't have to worry on it.” Jesus. Eighty thousand dollars. Did Rock know?

  "After coverage? I hope you're fighting it a lot—that's crazy.” He'd just assumed Rig's coverage had taken care of it. Just like he'd assumed Rig was just fine. Man, he needed to start paying better attention.

  "I bet we could come up with something else Rock would really like."

  "Don't worry, huh? This ain't your problem."

  "You're wrong, you know.” He could see the food court up ahead and he angled them that way. He needed ice cream.

  "You hungry again?"

  "Just want an ice cream or something sweet.” He chewed on his lip, telling himself to drop it, to leave it be, but it just kept nagging at him.

  "'kay. What's up?” Rig was right at his elbow, staring.

  "This whole ‘it ain't your problem’ thing."

  "It's not. You have enough to worry about."

  "It is, too, Rig.” He knew Rig didn't mean to shut him out, but that's exactly what he was doing. “I'm your partner. Yours and Rock's. So your problems are my problems. You can tell me not to worry about it—but don't tell me it's not my problem, too."

  Rig stood there, lips opening and closing for a second. “I."

  "I know you're trying to protect me, but I'm not a baby green anymore and I want to shoulder my share of the responsibility in this family."

  "You do, don't you? I don't treat you like a child, Dick."

  "No, you don't, but stuff like this. Well.” Dick pursed his lips trying to figure out how to say what he meant. “When you've got problems, then I've got problems, whether it's being sick, or owing money, or whatever, you know? Good and bad should be shared."

  "I don't want to fuck up your life, Dick. I really don't.” No. No, Rig wanted him to have nothing but peace and easy going. He knew that.