Operation Green Card

by G. B. Gordon

  “You see it. Every day,” Arkady said.

  This time Jason’s laughter was just a huff. “A neutral color makes it easier to ignore.”

  That, too, an admission. And still the very air in the room was heavy with unspoken things. By now Arkady was stone-cold sober. The emotional fireworks had burned the alcohol out of his system.

  “How do you take it off?” He kept his voice matter-of-fact, technical. They both needed a break from the high-tension roller coaster.

  Jason immediately caught on and answered in the same tone, as if explaining a new TV or power tool to him. “You roll the sleeve down over the edge of the socket to break the air seal.” He did so while he talked, revealing a second layer underneath, a little paler than his skin. “Pull leg out of socket.” He had to wiggle back and forth a bit to get his leg out of what resembled the upper part of a ski boot without the buckles. A silky material covered the second plasticky layer around the stump.

  “You roll the sock off.” He removed the silky material and hesitated again.

  “Let me guess,” Arkady quipped, trying to make it easier. “You then roll down that last piece. It’s like the Dance of the Seven Veils.”

  Jason guffawed. “The Red Cross version. But yeah, you’re right, roll down the gel liner, then wash or wet-wipe the stump, and put some lotion on it.” He didn’t get up immediately though, as if to give Arkady a chance to stare. Or was he daring him? To look or look away, though?

  Jason’s knee was crisscrossed with small scars that looked more jagged the further down the leg they went, to where the limb had been amputated slightly more than a hand’s width below the knee. The skin around the stump looked red and a little irritated, probably due to the long day and several dances.

  Arkady reached out to touch the knee, but at that Jason stood up on his one leg and reached for the door handle, leaning on it and a dresser on the other side of the door for a well-rehearsed swing-hop. “I’m gonna go take a shower.” He stopped briefly in the doorway. “You don’t have to leave,” he said without looking back, then, with the help of the banister, crossed the landing to the bathroom. Arkady began to see how the tiny house worked to his advantage.

  He listened for the sound of the water, then hefted the prosthesis Jason had left leaning against the bed. It was surprisingly light. He carefully set it back down exactly where it had been, afraid to break anything, afraid of leaving Jason in the lurch if he moved it somewhere else. The liner and what Jason had called a sock lay in a small heap on the far side of the neatly made bed with a nightstand on either side.

  There was a second dresser under the window, a deep armchair in the corner, and the closet between it and the door. Both dressers and nightstands were fake wood straight out of the seventies, probably Jason’s grandparents’, the armchair maybe even older, and an undefinable color between red and brown. The boards under his feet were polished, and the wood had been sealed at one point, but scuffs revealed where people had been walking over the decades. No pictures anywhere, no books, no knickknacks. The curtains up here were as old and frilly as the ones in the living room.

  He briefly contemplated opening drawers or doors for a peek, but what had seemed permissible with a stranger felt like crossing boundaries now, like betraying a trust.

  When Jason came back, those thoughts went collectively out the window, because all the big guy was wearing was a towel. Water beads clung to the short hairs in the middle of his chest. He paused briefly in the doorway with a glance around the room, then took his sock and liner, pulled them straight inside-out and hung them from a rail attached to the end of the dresser. All that with minimal movements and perfect balance. He was stunning, leg or no leg, and he left Arkady’s mouth dry.

  Arkady waited for him to say something, to make a move, give him an indication, any indication of where they were heading, but he was probably just as clueless as Arkady was himself. The thought that they were caught in the most frustrating instance ever of the mannequin challenge made Arkady grin and broke his inner impasse. He stood and slowly opened the buttons on his shirt, then, just as slowly, took it off and placed it over the back of the armchair.

  Jason watched his every move, but didn’t call a stop. He might have been breathing a little faster, though.

  When Arkady bent down to undo his shoelaces, he heard a strangled sound. He pulled his shoes and socks off and straightened, more light-headed than the brief stoop should have left him. Jason’s gaze felt like a touch on his bare chest.

  His slow movements had been intended to give Jason time to change his mind, but now they felt like he was doing a striptease. Heat rose up his neck at the thought, and to hide the blush, he looked down at his hands as he opened the button on his pants. But then he wanted to see Jason’s face, needed to know his reaction to what he was doing.

  Jason’s eyes were fixed on Arkady’s fingers pulling down the zipper, then on Arkady’s hands pushing the pants down, on Arkady’s middle when he stepped out of them and folded them over the armchair on top of his shirt.

  The towel around Jason’s hips was tented at least as much as Arkady’s briefs now, and he sucked in his cheeks and raised his eyebrows in an unspoken question when his eyes met Arkady’s.

  “I have no idea.” Arkady crossed the room and laid his palm on Jason’s chest, framing the tattoo with thumb and index finger. “I’m making it up as I go.” He searched Jason’s eyes. “Tell me when you want me to stop.”

  “I don’t want you to stop.” Not even a hint of hesitation there.

  “So then,” Arkady skimmed his hand up Jason’s chest, along his neck, cupped his cheek. “Tell me—” he kissed the corner of Jason’s mouth, and watched his Adam’s apple move as Jason swallowed “—how does it work, this not straight, but not gay thing?” He didn’t really want to ask; there were answers he didn’t want to hear. But he desperately needed to get this out of the way.

  “Both,” Jason breathed. “I mean, bi.” He opened his eyes, a slight crease between his brows. “Sexual. I mean, bisexual. Me, that is.”

  Arkady laughed. “Yes, I gathered you were talking about yourself.” His body was suddenly light as air. Everything was light. “And this is a recent development?”

  “Not really, I don’t think.” The crease between his brows deepened; Arkady smoothed his thumb over it, and Jason relaxed. “Guess I’ve been a little slow connecting the dots.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “What?” Jason sounded half-doubtful, half-exasperated now. “I don’t get to fuck until I slap a label on it?”

  Arkady laughed. “No, man, but I’m swimming here. I’m trying to figure out direction, speed, and probability all at the same time. Give me a break.”

  “Sorry.” Jason didn’t look sorry, though. He looked like he was enjoying this odd dance they were dancing.

  “So, you’ve played the field before?”

  Jason cocked his head “Maybe. In a way. Not like you think, I think.” He grimaced.

  “Spell it out for me.”

  “Barracks,” Jason said. “Too much testosterone, too little to do. Soapy handjobs in the shower. Getting head in a dark corner, that sort of thing.”

  “Only getting? Never giving?”

  Jason shook his head, candid, as always, if maybe a bit embarrassed; a lesser man might have squirmed.

  Arkady grinned and said with an over-the-top sigh, “Such high maintenance, masculinity, isn’t it?”

  “That wasn’t— Wait.” Jason squinted at him. “Are you fucking with me right now?”

  Impossible to keep a straight face. Laughing, Arkady threw himself backward onto the bed, arms outstretched. “Punish me.” He felt ridiculous, and more high than when he had been drunk earlier.

  With a pivot, Jason dropped on the bed next to him. “I should,” he growled, leaning on one elbow, his other hand hovering inches above Arkady’s chest. “You’re lucky I’m a bit . . .”

  “Wet behind the ears?”

  “Inexperien
ced.” Jason rolled on top of him, bracing himself on his arms. “But I’ve always been a quick study.” He moved his groin in slow circles, pressing down hard and sending hot pleasure zinging through Arkady’s body until it came out in a low moan.

  “Point made,” Arkady panted. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

  Jason didn’t need to be told twice.

  Between the kiss and Jason’s hips grinding against him, Arkady soon felt like his body was stretched across the universe, the tension in his balls deliciously unbearable. He pushed back, heightening the pressure as much as he could, until his balls tightened, and, just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, the sweet, unbelievably sweet, relief hit. He groaned against Jason’s lips, the tremors running through his body way beyond his control. And who’d want control, anyway, where surrender was divine?

  He never wanted to come down from his high, but eventually his heartbeat calmed, and he opened his eyes to find Jason watching him. “What?”

  “Nothing. Just getting to know you.” A light kiss, then Jason rolled onto his back and wiped the towel he’d been wearing along his dick before tossing it through the door onto the landing.

  “I’d better go shower too.” It wasn’t easy getting up when his limbs were heavy with sated desire, but it had been a long day, to say nothing of dancing, and stress, and booze; he sure needed that shower.

  When he came back, Jason had moved under the covers. He lay on his back, hands crossed behind his neck, fast asleep. Arkady slipped in next to him and, after a moment hesitation, snuggled up against him, using his upper arm for a pillow. With dawn filtering through the curtains, he lightly ran his fingers over the short hairs on Jason’s sternum until he fell asleep.

  It was past ten when Jason woke up, and for a second he thought his clock was off. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept past dawn. But then the weight of Arkady’s body on his left arm registered, and one by one the events of the day before flooded back.

  He was married. To a guy. Who was now asleep on his chest. He’d kind of prepared himself for the first two as a transaction that had to happen to complete his mission: save Arkady from getting killed in Russia, and put some money toward Lily’s schooling in the process. But that last one, that encompassed everything he hadn’t been prepared for. Desire for one. Mutual desire at that.

  He turned on his side so he could look at Arkady’s face. The face of the man who had actually wanted him. It was hard to believe, but Arkady had had no reason to pretend. He’d had his wedding. And Jason had given him no reason to think he wasn’t on board with the rest of the mission to get him his green card.

  And no one had been watching them last night. Arkady could have gone downstairs and passed out on the couch. In fact, Jason had been sure that was what he was going to do. After clocking Jason for not keeping a lid on his shit.

  Instead, Arkady had taken up the thread Jason had handed him and proceeded to unravel Jason, inch by inch. That was exactly how he felt: unraveled. He wasn’t sure he liked it. There were parts of it he’d liked—hard to deny that. But it was also unsettling, and he didn’t trust it. People just didn’t stay in his life. If you did something right, people might like you, might acknowledge that you had something to offer, but in the end, they still left. And what he’d offered Arkady didn’t require liking, or wanting to stay.

  He carefully extricated himself so he wouldn’t wake Arkady up. The poor guy would have the mother of all hangovers when he did. Better give him a few more hours.

  Jason collected his stuff and went to take his shower, then dressed in the bathroom in sweats and a T-shirt. He’d been briefly tempted to use the iWALK, like he would have if he’d been alone. The skin around the stump could use a day’s rest, but it wasn’t too bad, and in the end he didn’t feel quite at ease enough to do without the prothesis. Baby steps.

  He made a pot of strong coffee and set up his laptop on the kitchen table, where he could connect it to the printer that was living a life of idleness in a recess under the breakfast bar.

  He had a truckload of forms to print.

  Arkady came downstairs two hours later, in the jeans he’d worn yesterday morning, before they’d gotten dressed up, and nothing else. He looked tousled and sleepy, and too good for words. The urge to take him right back upstairs and continue his exploration of Arkady’s body was hard to wrestle down. But they had work to do.

  “Do I smell coffee?” Arkady said. He didn’t seem any the worse for having killed close to a bottle of vodka the evening before.

  “Dregs. Let me make a fresh pot.” It kept his hands busy, and his eyes off Arkady’s ass in those jeans, and off the treasure trail that ran from his navel to behind the button.

  “Thanks.” Arkady started to walk over, but then stopped and bent over the table when he saw the pages. “Immigration? What’re you up to?”

  “Lots of forms to fill out. Better get a move on.”

  “Okaaay.” He sounded wary, or maybe just tired.

  “I have to be back at work tomorrow. Best make use of the free time. If we get them filled out today, I can post them and pay the fee tomorrow.”

  Arkady was riffling through the papers Jason had printed. “You’re right. I didn’t realize it was quite so much paperwork.”

  He came over to where Jason was measuring coffee powder into the filter, snuck an arm around his waist and kissed him on the side of the neck. “You should have woken me up.”

  Instantly electrified, Jason turned in his arm, coffee forgotten. “I thought you could use the extra sleep,” he got out. There were other things he wanted to say and ask, but they crowded around in his brain until he couldn’t make out a single one. At least Arkady had answered the question whether last night had been a drunk one-off. Apparently not. The possibilities left him breathless.

  Arkady slipped his other arm around Jason, closing the circle. “Are you okay?”

  “Affirmative.” If Arkady was sober and still wanted him, he was more than okay.

  “Good.” Arkady pulled him close and kissed him. Softly at first, then, when Jason threaded his fingers through Arkady’s hair, more urgently. Jason let himself fall into the kiss, because he could now. Boundaries had been redrawn last night. Kissing was definitely okay. It shot like lightning through his veins, and pulled at his ass muscles and his balls. But if he didn’t stop now, there would be no paperwork today.

  “Forms,” he managed, breaking the kiss.

  “Right.” Arkady took a step back and combed all ten fingers through his hair. “What a shame, though.” There was laughter in his breathlessness. “I could just eat you up.”

  “I better make us some eggs, before the worst happens.” Jason kept his voice deadpan, but it wasn’t easy in the face of Arkady’s suggestively wiggling eyebrows.

  He finished setting up the coffeepot, then got eggs, bacon, and bread out of the fridge, while Arkady had a proper go at the forms. “All those abbreviations are giving me a headache,” he muttered.

  Jason was still trying to keep his mind out of the gutter and not burn anything, including his fingers.

  When he set two plates on the table, Arkady said, “We better mail everyone and ask for copies of the photos they took yesterday.”

  “Already did.” Jason pulled the laptop toward himself to check his mail, and to keep his hands off Arkady.

  “Aren’t you efficient?” Arkady quipped, but Jason didn’t have any breath left to answer him. Two people had already gotten back to him with pictures. One in an email, and the other had uploaded a whole bunch of them on Facebook.

  Jason was staring at the image of Arkady and himself right after exchanging their vows. He had his hands around Arkady’s face and was about to kiss him.

  They looked like lovers. It wasn’t just the fact that they were wearing matching suits and rings, or that they were standing under the gardenia arch. It was the way he was looking at Arkady. There was an energy to the photo that Jason hadn’t expected could be captur
ed. It was an intimate, revealing picture that stripped him bare of all pretenses and laid him open for everyone to see how he felt. It was what they’d been trying to pretend for weeks, but how a photo could capture something like that when it hadn’t actually been there, Jason didn’t know. Because it hadn’t been there, had it? He remembered allowing himself to be happy, to be in the moment, to believe that they weren’t taking advantage of everyone present. But that photo? That screamed I love you. “Huh.”

  “What are you grunting at?” Arkady said, but he was busy wiping egg off his plate with his toast.

  For a heartbeat Jason was tempted to delete the picture. It made him feel naked in the same way that taking off his prosthetic leg had last night. Maybe it was all in his head, though?

  He slowly turned the laptop so Arkady could see the screen.

  Arkady fell against the chairback as if he’d been shot. “I’ll be damned,” he said softly.

  “Good one, right?” Jason said, testing the waters, trying to figure out if Arkady saw what he was seeing.

  “I’ll say.” Arkady looked as if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, which made no sense. “Tasha is going to have a field day with that one,” he murmured.

  “Huh?” Jason was officially lost.

  For a heartbeat—two—Arkady kept staring at the image on the screen, then he shook himself like a wet dog. He beamed at Jason. “A field day, a happy day. Isn’t that what you say in English? It’s an excellent picture. Definitely one we want to print and include with our papers.” With that, he reached across for the mouse and scrolled through the album. A pulse started beating at his throat, and he took a shaky breath. “In fact, we should include all of these. They’re all good.”

  Then he cleaned the table and started to fill in forms, while Jason turned the screen back, reclaimed the mouse, and went through the rest of the pictures. They were all like that. The two of them kissing, dancing, cutting the cake—every image a declaration of love. He stared at Arkady’s bent head next to him, trying to figure out what had happened to himself. Why he, Jason, looked like that in every picture. Yes, Arkady was attractive. Very. And, yes his kisses set Jason’s blood on fire. But that didn’t mean he was in love with Arkady.