by L. A. Witt
Colin’s throat tightened. Did you hear everything I just told you?
“And as far as you deserving everything . . .” Lips pursed, Daniel shook his head. “Look, I’ve been to war zones. I got lucky and was mostly just bored, but I know guys who’ve seen and done things even I can’t imagine. Yeah, it’s going to fuck up their minds, and I’m thankful every single day I dodged the PTSD bullet when I was over there.” He brushed a soft kiss across Colin’s lips. “I wouldn’t reject a guy for what combat did to him. Why would I reject you for what some controlling asshole did to you? Especially when he was making a disease you already had worse than it was?”
Colin stared at him, trying to comprehend the words. So many people treated his condition as something wrong with him. Some flaw or weakness he just needed to get over like a normal person. It was rare to find people who understood it was a legitimate disease.
And Daniel understood that. He . . . he got it.
Jesus. Colin had wound up in Virginia thanks to his life spiraling out of control. Daniel had come here because of the Navy, which he’d joined to escape his homophobic hometown. And while Colin wouldn’t have wished any of their experiences on anyone, damn, he couldn’t help being grateful their clusterfuck paths had led them both here. To each other. To this.
Laughing softly, he touched Daniel’s face. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m glad I did it.”
Daniel smiled. “Me, too.”
Colin kissed him softly. He hoped Daniel didn’t notice how jittery he was. How raw he felt. Opening up like that was hellishly difficult, and he was already making mental notes to get on the horn with his therapist tomorrow, and to have a talk with Amanda. This kind of conversation had, in the past, left him with a kind of emotional hangover, which could cause a serious downward spiral that would trigger a massive relapse. He didn’t want to go down that road again.
Daniel—hopefully oblivious to the inner malfunctions of Colin’s mind—broke eye contact for a second. “Listen, uh, at the risk of sounding like an idiot, I know you’re not into relationships. And I don’t have a clue about them.” He moistened his lips. “But . . . we sure aren’t just fucking. How is what we’re doing not a relationship?”
Colin’s heart sped up. “I, um . . .”
“I’m kind of following your lead here.” Daniel’s forehead creased. “I don’t really know what we’re doing.”
“Well.” Colin tried to ignore the fluttering in his chest, but failed miserably. “I guess we could say that’s one thing that didn’t go as planned.”
Daniel gulped. “What do you mean?”
“I mean . . .” Colin searched for the words, and somehow, he found them. “This was supposed to be friends with benefits, but calling it that now seems kind of . . . insulting.” Blood pounded in his ears as he touched Daniel’s face. “You’re definitely not just a fuck buddy anymore.”
Not when you somehow take me at face value without flinching, and keep coming back for more.
Daniel held his gaze. For a couple of seconds, nothing registered in his expression, and Colin was sure this was about to blow up in his face after all.
But just before Colin could completely freak out, a soft laugh escaped Daniel’s lips.
“Good,” he whispered, drawing Colin closer. “That means it wasn’t just me.”
Relief brought a laugh out of Colin, too, and he wrapped his arms around him. “No. It definitely wasn’t just you.”
Then he pulled Daniel into a long, tender kiss.
Under normal circumstances, after talking about his eating disorder, the last thing Colin wanted was to be touched. He didn’t even want to be seen. The shame, the grossness—just being in his own skin nauseated him. He sure as hell didn’t want anyone seeing or feeling him.
But . . . Daniel.
Daniel’s embrace was warm and kind, his kiss genuine. He’d just listened to Colin tell him all this shit that was wrong with him, and he still wanted to touch him. He . . . still wanted him.
Colin held him close and returned the kiss. He wasn’t in any headspace to be getting turned on, but being in Daniel’s arms, it was impossible not to. And Colin welcomed it. He let his body respond, and savored every response from Daniel.
If ever Colin had needed to know he was still desirable, this was it, and dear God, Daniel wasn’t holding back. He kissed Colin like it had been months and not minutes since they’d touched. His hands ran all over Colin’s skin, not pausing to scrutinize some extra fat or silently criticize a lack of definition. There was no judgment in Daniel’s touch, and more than once, Colin caught himself on the brink of tears just from this sweet, unflinching embrace.
After a while, Daniel pushed him onto his back and got on top.
Their eyes met. Locked. Lingered.
Colin’s heart pounded. He touched Daniel’s face, hoping he was the only one who noticed the faint tremor in his fingers. Can you not see what a train wreck I am?
Daniel slowly drew the tip of his tongue across his lower lip. Then he came down for another kiss, and this time he damn near did push Colin to tears. Everything about this was perfect, and every time Colin’s demons tried to tell him he didn’t deserve it, Daniel’s lips and hands and breath told him otherwise.
Their bodies moved together, finding a subtle, steady rhythm and rubbing their hard cocks against each other. Colin was more turned on than he’d thought he could be right then, and every brush of Daniel’s thick erection sent waves of both need and relief through him. He needed more, he wanted more, but damn, he was relieved to know he still had this effect on Daniel. That even after everything they’d talked about, Daniel could still be aroused and breathless with him. That rocking against him and gasping for air between kisses wasn’t out of the question. It didn’t make sense. It didn’t have to. It was good, and it was hot, and it was exactly what Colin needed, so he kissed Daniel even harder and held on for dear life.
Before long, they were both panting. They couldn’t even kiss anymore, so Daniel did the next best thing and went for Colin’s throat, and Colin closed his eyes and tilted his head back to expose as much skin as possible to Daniel’s soft, needy lips. Daniel fucked against him faster, and Colin rocked his hips as much as he could, gripping Daniel’s shoulder and his hair as his orgasm closed in.
“Oh my God,” Daniel groaned, and pressed his lips to Colin’s neck again. He shuddered, holding Colin tighter and thrusting harder against him. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
“So do you.” Colin felt like an idiot for being on the brink of tears and an orgasm at the same time, but to hell with it. He didn’t hold back. He held on, and let go, and he came so hard his eyes would’ve welled up anyway. “Fuck!” He dug his nails into Colin’s shoulders. “Oh my—holy shit!”
And then Daniel gave a soft little whimper, and his whole body jerked against Colin’s, and Colin couldn’t tell whose cum was whose, only that everything between them was suddenly hot and slick.
With a long sigh, he sank back to the bed.
A second later, Daniel collapsed on top of him, his back rising and falling with deep, heavy breaths.
Colin surreptitiously wiped his eyes, then kissed the top of Daniel’s head. And as they both caught their breath, he silently thanked God one more time for everything that had landed them here.
Chapter 22
“I’m not gonna lie—it’s gonna be intense today.”
Sitting in his usual place, shirtless and ready for the needle, Daniel gulped. He tried like hell to ignore the prickling in his spine. “How so?”
“Well, we’re going to start working our way up the side of your rib cage.” Colin carefully smoothed the stencil onto his skin. “Everyone’s different, but that’s almost always a sensitive area.”
“Hooray?”
Colin chuckled. “You made it through a pec tattoo. You’ll be fine. I just, uh, figured I should give you a heads-up.”
“Much appreciated.”
Turned out
he wasn’t kidding—the instant the needle made contact, the pain took Daniel’s breath away. Not even the usual flood of endorphins helped much this time. His skin simultaneously burned hot and cold. Like it was on fire and being carved apart by an icy knife. “Jesus. Christ.”
“Hang in there,” Colin said in that calm, soothing tone.
“Trying,” Daniel ground out. “Fuck.”
The buzz of the needle quieted and the intensity died down. Sort of.
“From here, it’s your call—I can go back and forth from that area to one of the less sensitive ones. Give you a few breaks. Or we can just knuckle through this part.”
Daniel swallowed. “Do as much as you can. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”
“You sure?”
“Yep. I’d rather get it done.”
“Okay. You can always tap out.”
“I know.”
Nope. Not tapping out. He had enough hours under his belt, he could handle this.
Except goddamn, over his ribs was . . . shit. Where the fuck did Colin get the idea that this wasn’t as bad as a pec tattoo? That had been a bunch of flaming bee stinger cat claws. This was . . . this . . . it was more like the needles had been dipped in the juice of habañeros that had been grown on the surface of the sun and exported for being too hot. Fuck.
His mouth watered like he was going to get sick, but he forced it back. Tried to, anyway. He really was going to puke, wasn’t he?
Come on. Breathe. Colin’s got ink on his neck, for crying out loud. You can handle—
“Fuck.” Daniel grunted. “Okay. I can’t—” The needle immediately left his skin, and Daniel released a breath. “I need a break.”
“No problem.”
Daniel turned his chair, leaned down, and kneaded his temples.
Something squeaked, then snapped, and a second later, Colin’s hand started gently rubbing the back of Daniel’s neck. He no longer had his glove on, so his skin was warm against Daniel’s.
“Take your time,” Colin said softly. “We’re not in any hurry.”
“Thanks,” Daniel croaked.
When he was finally sure his lunch would stay where it belonged, he slowly sat up. “Is it normal to feel like I’m gonna puke?”
“You aren’t the first.”
“Thought you said this wasn’t as bad as a pec tattoo?”
Colin grimaced sympathetically, but shrugged. “Everyone’s different.”
“So I see.” Daniel closed his eyes and exhaled. “So, how much have we done so far? Please don’t tell me it was only two minutes.”
Colin laughed. “Actually, it was almost half an hour.”
Daniel’s eyes flew open. “What?”
“Yeah. I’m almost done with the outline that goes over your ribs.”
“Oh.” Daniel swallowed. “So, the rest of the outline is . . .”
“Mostly on the muscle and sort of on your spine. This was probably the worst part.” He paused. “You want me to go ahead and finish this part—outlining and shading—then move on to the rest?”
Nausea rose in Daniel’s throat again, but powering through did seem like the better approach. Finish it and get it over with. “Yeah, let’s do that.”
“All right. You ready?”
No. “Yep.”
“Here we go . . .”
* * *
The rest of the session was painful enough to keep Daniel’s stomach churning right up until the end. Even after Colin had moved on to the less sensitive areas, the damage was done and Daniel’s nerves were fried. Still, he’d pushed through. Thankfully, he’d had Colin there to talk him through it. That gentle, calming tone kept him sane and anchored, reassuring him all the way to the end that he was doing fine.
Now, sprawled on Colin’s bed with his back still bandaged, Daniel was utterly exhausted. “Oh my God. Have I mentioned lately how comfortable your bed is?”
“You have.” Colin squeezed his shoulder gently. “And you’re welcome to stay in it as long as you need to.”
“Can’t promise anything’s going to happen.”
“Happen?” Colin’s fingers twitched. “You really think I expect you to be in the mood for sex tonight?”
Daniel raised his head, eyebrows pinched together. “We fooled around the first time I had a painful tattoo.”
Colin pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “Yeah, but I think we both know this one was worse.”
“True.”
“Which . . . sorry. I didn’t realize it would be this bad.”
“It’s okay. Like you said, everyone’s different.” His eyelids slid shut. “And it’s done, thank God.”
“Yep.” Colin stroked his hair. “We’ll take it easy tonight. Maybe watch a movie, relax, and let you recover.”
“I like the sound of that.”
So, as they’d been doing a lot recently, they spent another evening watching movies in Colin’s bed. Barefoot, shirtless, but still wearing jeans, they took their usual spots—Colin up against the headboard, Daniel lying on his stomach—and relaxed to whatever Colin’s Netflix subscription had available. Last night, Star Wars: The Force Awakens. Tonight, some weird indie film that didn’t make a whole lot of sense to Daniel.
He couldn’t complain, though. The movie may have been a little weird, and his freshly inked skin still hurt like a motherfucker, but he always enjoyed his long, lazy evenings with Colin.
Daniel sat up after the movie ended, and Colin ran his hand over a recently completed—and mostly healed—section of the back tattoo, which at least wasn’t so damn itchy today.
“Looks like this part’s healing up nicely,” he said. “I know today was pretty rough, but let me know when you want to do your next session.”
“The sooner the better.” Daniel grinned. “If this is as bad as it gets, I think I’m ready for anything. That, and I’m really looking forward to seeing the next stage.”
“Me, too.” Colin traced the edges again. “I’ve got some ideas to bring out the shading, too. Just a little color here and there to make everything pop.”
“You’re the artist.”
“We’ll see how it goes. But I’m liking the way it’s turning out so far. You’re happy with it, right?”
“Oh my God, yes. I love it.” Daniel leaned back and kissed him. “I’d have stopped you a long time ago if I didn’t.”
“I figured as much. But still. I’m glad you like it.”
“I definitely do.”
Colin put his hand on Daniel’s leg. “So do you want to do this again tomorrow night? Minus the tattooing?”
“I do, but I’ve got duty tomorrow.”
“Aww, damn. Already? I thought you just had duty.”
“Tell me about it.” Daniel scowled. Then he met Colin’s gaze. “Actually, you want to come down to the ship and have dinner with me? If you’re not working?”
“Really? We can do that?”
Daniel nodded. “I’ll get you a base pass tomorrow, and then I can get you a pass onto the ship when you come.”
“Sure. I’ve never been on an aircraft carrier before. Sounds interesting.”
Daniel laughed. “Only because you don’t live on one.”
“Yeah, I guess the novelty would wear off after a while, wouldn’t it?”
“So much. But I don’t mind bringing somebody on board and showing them around.” Especially you.
Colin smiled. “Sounds great. I’m looking forward to it.” He kissed Daniel softly. “Now let’s get some lotion on that ink . . .”
* * *
“How is this the first time I’ve seen you in uniform?” Colin grinned and looked Daniel up and down as they walked from the parking lot to the pier.
Daniel laughed, hoping he wasn’t blushing as brightly as he thought he was. “I can’t wear my uniform out in town, or you’d have seen it by now.”
“Well, anytime you feel like it,” Colin said, “do feel free to put it back on in my bedroom.”
“Duly noted.”
They exchanged grins. God, he was going to have a hell of a time keeping his hands off Colin tonight. Pity they’d be hanging out on the ship, or he’d have been hunting for the nearest flat surface already.
Still, it was better than not seeing him at all, and Colin—being a saint—had picked up Subway. Amazing how much living on a ship and eating on mess decks could make something as simple as a Subway sandwich into a serious treat.
Colin signed in at the gate and was given a pass, and they continued onto the pier in the shadow of Daniel’s ship.
“Whoa.” Colin stared up at the carrier’s hull. “That thing is huge.”
Daniel snickered. “That’s what she—”
“Shut up.” They both laughed and kept walking, and Colin kept staring up at the ship.
The ships lining the piers probably weren’t a new sight. Anyone who lived in or around Norfolk had seen them from time to time, either sailing by or docked at the Norfolk base or the Newport News shipyard. Even from a distance, they were impressive.
But Daniel clearly remembered the first time he’d walked up to the boat. Intellectually, he’d understood how big an aircraft carrier had to be in order to carry aircraft—not to mention five thousand people—but actually standing on the pier beside one was incredible. The massive hull was narrow on the bottom, rising up high over his head before spreading out into the iconic flight deck, and the thick ropes keeping it tied to the pier were easily as thick as a person’s thigh. The links on the anchor chain could have flattened someone.
And if the ship had looked huge from the outside, the inside was insane, especially the cavernous hangar deck. There must’ve been three or four dozen people in or wandering through, but it was hardly crowded. Daniel was used to it, but if Colin’s wide eyes were anything to go by, he was struggling to take in the sheer volume of space inside the ship.
Colin wrinkled his nose a little. That wasn’t surprising. The whole place smelled like a mechanic’s shop. Metal. Rubber. Diesel fumes. Cigarette smoke coming in from outside. Daniel was used to that, too, but most people definitely noticed it when they came on board.